Had things been different
by Captainfredrickwentworth
Summary: This is a retelling of Gaskell's North and South, but with a twist. At the beginning of our story, when Margaret is propositioned by Henry Lennox, she feels obligated to agree. (I've used a bit of poetic license with her reasons). Anyway, Margaret marries Lennox and then goes to visit her parents a few months later, as they have moved north. What will happen when she meets John?
1. Chapter 1

**So this is a plot that smacked me in the face while I was driving alone between towns today. I don't know if there's anything similar on here. There probably is. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think. This story will revolve around the events depicted in the mini-series. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own North and South or it's characters. **

**xxx**

_Dearest Mr Bell,_

_You may not remember me as well as I do you, but I hope that you will forgive my forwardness in writing to you. As father may have told you, he and mother have decided to move north, and I worry for them. You may also know that I am no longer in their care and cannot go with them, regardless of how much I may wish to. _

_I know that you and father have always been close friends, and I can only ask. I can only beg you to watch over him and my mother whilst they are nearby. I fear that they may struggle with the busy life of an industrial town. Oh, how I wish I could go with them. _

_I would appreciate if you did not mention my writing to you to father. I know it would only make him feel helpless. I hope that you are fairing well._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Margaret Lennox _

Margaret Hale had the reputation of being a beautiful, kind woman. Since a young age, any who met her would soon learn of and come to appreciate her intelligence and unconditional thoughtfulness when it came to others. She was a model of feminine sensibility, whilst simultaneously preserving her youthful cheerfulness.

But she was Margaret Hale no more.

Henry Lennox was a pleasant enough man, with brains but very little wit. Many young ladies had expressed their interest in him throughout his life, but Henry had eyes for no one but Margaret Hale, the cousin of Edith, his brother's wife. She had never directly expressed interest in him as others had before, but he knew her to be a subtle creature, and read her actions as he saw them.

After his brother's wedding, when Margaret and her parents had returned to their home, he planned a visit, where he would bare his feelings to Margaret and ask her to be his wife.

When Henry Lennox asked Margaret to marry him, she was instantaneously taken aback. She had thought little of marriage, but she knew how pleased her parents would be to see her secure, especially after Fredrick. Bearing this in mind and how happy it would make both their families, she agreed and they were married before the season was out.

Several months later, Margaret had lost some of her flare and appeared quiet and distracted to those around her. Edith tried desperately to make her happier, but when even the news of Edith's pregnancy couldn't rouse more than a small smile and murmur of congratulations, it was decided that Margaret would go to her parents in the north.

Pleased by the idea, Margaret had been surprised that Henry had agreed to the scheme so readily. Although, he was such a busy man that she suspected that he would hardly notice her absence. The charm of Margaret Hale had worn off for Henry soon after they left for their honeymoon and ever since, he had been strangely distant. He only really talked to her in company and it was Margaret's shameful secret that the marriage was yet to be consummated.

Margaret put Henry's feelings down to a lack of emotional maturity. He had gotten what he wanted before he realised that it wasn't what he wanted at all. And it was true. Margaret would admit it to herself that a stupider wife would have suited him better, and a more feeling husband would have suited her very well.

Still, as she sat aboard a northbound train, Margaret felt a familiar sense of excitement and wonder fill her at the thought of visiting a new place and seeing her parents once more. _'Perhaps I could visit again soon after I return to London,' _she mused, then chided herself for wishing to be anywhere but in London where she belonged.

As the fields and farmland disappeared and was replaced by harsh, cold buildings and the air grew visibly foggier, Margaret wondered just what sort of place her parents had moved to. What sort of people could live in such a place?

**xxx**

**So? What do you think? Intriguing enough to catch your attention? I hope so! I will update when I get time. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for your feedback, guys. I'm glad that there's interest in this story :) I'm a bit rusty as I haven't written in quite a while, so I hope you'll forgive any mistakes. Anyway, this chapter is a little longer. Most chapters with probably more like this length as I get back into the flow. Thanks again and enjoy :)**

**xxx**

As the train hissed to a halt, Margaret's stomach filled with trepidation as she looked out at the bustling platform. She had been in crowds before in the busy streets of London, but this place was even more alien to her. People jostled each other along the platform and the air was chilly and smoky. Oh, how Margaret feared for her mother in such a place. Such a delicate woman would not do so well there.

Just as she had resolved herself to join the throng, a man stopped beside her compartment and raised his voice above the crowd to speak to her.

'Are you a Mrs Lennox, madam?'

Margaret could do little but nod as the gruff-looking man opened the door and took her bag from her hand, before offering her his other for her to step down.

'I'm sorry,' she called over the tumult around them. 'I do not know your name',

'I'm Williams, ma'am. Mr Thornton sent me on behalf of your father. Said it was important to your father that you be delivered quickly'.

'Who is Mr Thornton?' Margaret wondered aloud. 'What has he to do with my father?'

Having heard her, even as they weaved their way through the crowd, Williams turned his head back to reply. 'Mr Thornton is master of Marlborough Mills. He is a pupil of your father's. I know nothing more than that, ma'am'.

Once they were out onto the street the crowd thinned considerably and Margaret could move freely without being jostled by others. She looks around the dusty streets and couldn't help but be amazed by the contrast to the clean, well-preserved streets that she frequented in London. These streets were full of workman, and industry was around every corner. Milton was certainly a harsh change from the picturesque scenes of Helstone, where she grew up.

Williams led Margaret down several side streets until they came to a quieter, more secluded street with only a few larger apartments and houses. Margaret tried to imagine her parents living comfortably in such a place as Williams explained that this was the place that Mr Thornton had thought would suit her parents needs best. She found herself wondering whether this Mr Thornton was as amiable as Williams seemed to think he was. Surely for a man to think so highly of his master, he must be a great man indeed.

As soon as Williams knocked on the door to one of the smaller houses, the familiar sounds of bustling footsteps could be heard and Margaret smiled as a puffing Dixon emerged. Williams handed over the bag and bid them goodbye before another word could be said.

'Oh miss,' Dixon pulled Margaret in to embrace her. 'We're so glad you could come'.

'So am I, Dixon, believe me,' Margaret smiled back as the older woman ushered her inside and closed the door behind her. 'I wish I could have been here to help mama and father. It must have been so difficult for them both'.

Dixon shrugged her broad shoulders. 'The missus is not enjoying it very much, but your father seems to thrive in this place. He has his pupils and spends more time with them than with his wife these days'.

'Dixon,' Margaret scolded. 'Please do not speak so harshly about father. I'm sure he is only trying to find a way to cope'.

Dixon nodded, but said nothing more.

'Will you take me to them?' Margaret asked, looking around the room curiously.

'Of course, Miss,' Dixon nodded and walked on ahead.

Margaret smiled at the familiar address. How she wished she was Miss Hale still. She would have moved with her parents and been able to care for them much better.

'Dixon?' called a familiar, delicate voice.

'I'm here,' Dixon called back and led Margaret into the room where the voice originated from, 'and look; I have Miss Margaret with me'.

Margaret observed her mother's frail form and tired face as it lit up with delight. 'My dear girl,' she cried.

'Mama,' Margaret murmured and hurried to embrace her. 'How I've missed you'.

'Oh Margaret,' Mrs Hale whimpered. 'This is such a horrible place'.

'Come now, mama,' Margaret reassured her. 'This place cannot be so bad. I little alteration and decoration and it will be just like home'.

'I wish we could live close to you, Margaret,' Mrs Hale sighed. 'You must have such a wonderful life with Henry'.

Margaret tried her best to maintain her cheeriness. Her eyes met Dixon's and the other woman gave her a curious look. Margaret shook her head.

'Is that Margaret I hear?' called the voice of Mr Hale from the doorway. 'Goodness me, my dear, you are thin'.

Margaret chuckled softly and crossed over to embrace her father as well. 'Should I be round, father?'

'I-no, of course not, but you do look very thin. Is everything alright down in London?'

'I am quite alright,' Margaret promised. 'Now, tell me about your lessons. Has all been well?'

'Well as it happens, one of my pupils has agreed to dine with us tonight. You shall see whether I have been able to teach him a thing or two,' Mr Hale smiled proudly.

Margaret beamed. 'Doesn't that sound nice, mama?'

Mrs Hale sighed wearily. 'I am afraid I will have to take supper in my room. I do not feel up to entertaining tonight'.

'Very well,' Dixon responded quickly before either of the others could object.

Later when Margaret had settled in to her room, she found Dixon down in the kitchen preparing things for the evening.

'Dixon,' Margaret called down to her as she descended the stairs. 'Can I help at all?'

'You help me?' Dixon scoffed. 'Does that husband of yours make you work in the kitchen or something? Never you mind about it'.

'But Dixon'—

'I said no, Miss,' Dixon snapped and then sighed. 'I'm sorry'.

'Dixon, whatever is the matter?' Margaret swept across the room to take the older woman by the shoulder.

'I'm afraid, Miss. Nothing has been right since you left. You left and then we were uprooted and moved to an awful place. I fear for the missus' health here'.

Margaret nodded. 'Believe me, Dixon, if I could undo my actions and be with you all still, I should be much happier'.

Dixon sniffed and gave Margaret a strange look. 'Surely you don't mean that, Miss. Life in London must be so exciting for you'.

Margaret shook her head. 'Oh Dixon, I made a terrible mistake when I married Henry. I thought in marrying Henry I would make everyone happy, yet it seems that I have done quite the opposite'.

Dixon did not say a word, but listened with such an earnest expression on her face that Margaret felt compelled to continue.

'I am so lonely. Henry and I spend little time together and when we do it is all forced politeness and pleasantries, never anything more. I never considered that I may wish for more in a marriage, but having seen the love between my parents, I feel as though I have ruined everything'.

'Oh miss,' Dixon said softly. 'Well at least you're here now'.

Margaret managed a small smile and nodded. 'Yes, and I shall enjoy every moment while I can'.

'Try not to think of any of that tonight,' Dixon sniffed again and continued to bustle around the kitchen once more. 'You'll find the company up here very different from what you're used to'.

'Oh?' Margaret murmured as she absentmindedly straightened the tablecloth beneath her fingers.

'Yes,' Dixon nodded seriously. 'And if you find Mr Thornton half as interesting as the master does, you'll be very well pleased'.

'Mr Thornton?' Margaret asked in wonderment.

'He's a pupil to your father,' Dixon explained. 'Seems a decent gentleman from what I know of him'.

'We shall see,' Margaret replied with a smile and picked up an apron to assist her.

**xxx**

**I hope you don't mind me giving Dixon a bit more of a loving role in Margaret's life. Margaret is after all a little less ballsy at the moment as she believes that she has ruined her chances of a happy life by marrying Henry. This is why I think it appropriate for her to be a little less guarded. Her underlying feeling of helplessness keeps her spirits at bay.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you all so much for your interest. I know there have been some questions, but I would prefer to let them answer themselves if you're willing to stick around. This story is currently my procrastination from uni work (I know, naughty) and I'm loving it. Enjoy!**

**xxx**

'Well miss,' Dixon sighed once they had finished their tasks. 'You'd best be getting back upstairs to get ready for dinner. We can't have you arriving for dinner looking like this'.

'Thank you, Dixon,' Margaret smiled. 'For your company and all you do for us. Especially for mother'.

'You know there's nowhere else I'd rather be,' Dixon shot back with a scoff.

Margaret returned to her room in higher spirits than she had been in for weeks. She quickly washed up and went about selecting her attire for the evening. Although she was married, and Henry earned a great deal more than her father, she still preferred to dress modestly, excluding the occasion more expensive piece. Growing up as she had, Margaret was a firm believer in moderation, especially when it came to spending.

Before long, she had dressed in a simple, light blue gown and pinned her hair back into her usual style. If it were a dinner in London, she would be expected to dress more extravagantly, but since it was only her father and a businessman, she felt no pressure to adorn herself excessively.

Just as she was fixing what she hoped would be the last of her unruly curls, she heard sharp knocks at the door downstairs and the familiar bustling footsteps of Dixon as she hurried to answer it.

Once Margaret was sure that her father had greeted the guest and that it would be appropriate for her to make herself known, she made her way quietly down the stairs and into the parlour.

The two gentlemen had their backs to Margaret, but as soon as he heard her enter, Mr Hale quickly turned to greet her.

'There you are, my dear. Mr Thornton, may I have the pleasure of introducing you to my daughter, Margaret?'

Mr Thornton turned to face her, and Margaret was instantly taken aback at the sight of him. Judging from the limited information she had been given, she presumed that he would have been older and less well-looking. Now that she looked at him, she could see that he was a very handsome gentleman, and not at all old.

Cool blue eyes met hers and she gave her best polite smile. Mr Thornton stepped forward and extended his hand.

Momentarily at a loss of what to do, Margaret froze for a moment before accepting the hand. His hand was strong and calloused, and she could tell that it had done more than its fair share of hard work.

'It's a pleasure to meet you,' he greeted in a deep, baritone voice and a small smile lifted his lips quite pleasantly. 'Your father has spoken of you often'.

'Oh?' Margaret questioned with a smile of her own. 'I'm sure there isn't much to talk about'.

'Quite the contrary, I assure you,' he replied smoothly and slowly retracted his hand.

'Mr Thornton has just been saying that he must introduce you to his sister while you are here,' Mr Hale cut in. 'He says she would love the company'.

'I'd be delighted to meet her,' Margaret agreed happily. 'Though I cannot vouch for my own company. I have been somewhat of a recluse of late'.

'Margaret,' Mr Hale laughed uncomfortably and cast a sideways glance at Mr Thornton. 'You make it sound as though a young lady would have nothing to do in London'.

'Well there you have it,' said Mr Thornton. 'My sister loves the idea of London and dreams of going there. I believe you would be of great interest to her, should you agree to meet'.

'Of course,' Margaret nodded and then turned to her father. 'Shall we go through to the dining room?'

'Of course,' Mr Hale gestured his guest to the door and Mr Thornton paused, making sure that Margaret was the first to go through.

Margaret led the way to the dining room with Mr Thornton behind her and her father bringing up the rear. The Hale's dining room was not a very grand one. It boasted only six chairs and the table itself was no doubt a great deal smaller than those in the grand houses of London, but Margaret pushed the thought aside. Mr Thornton did not seem to be a harsh man and her parents were not so impoverished as to be improper.

Margaret took a place on one side of the table and was joined by Mr Thornton. Her father took a seat on the other side of the table across from her.

'I must apologise for my wife's absence,' said Mr Hale. 'She isn't feeling well this evening'.

'No trouble at all, Mr Hale. I would not want her to sacrifice her comfort for my sake,' Mr Thornton assured him.

'I will check on her a little later,' Margaret informed her father. 'I am sure you gentlemen don't' need my input to have lively conversation.

They lapsed into a polite conversation about very little for a while before Dixon began bringing in their dinner. Her father and Mr Thornton soon launched into a discussion about philosophy, and Margaret listened on patiently, glad to see her father's enthusiasm renewed.

'So, Margaret,' Mr Hale turned to her after some time. 'How is Henry lately?' Upon seeing Mr Thornton's curious look, he elaborated. 'Henry Lennox is Margaret's husband, Mr Thornton. He's a lawyer in London'.

Margaret suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. 'He is very well, father. His practice keeps him very busy and I do not see him very much at all'.

'Such a hard-working lad,' Mr Hale nodded appreciatively, but Mr Thornton fixed Margaret with a strange look that she couldn't quite read. His piercing eyes looked as though they could see her discomfort and it caused Margaret to shiver.

'Would you both excuse me for a moment?' she asked, rising slowly from her chair. 'I'm feeling a little unwell'.

Mr Thornton rose from his seat instantly and Mr Hale was fast to follow.

'Are you alright, my dear?' he inquired. 'I do hope you aren't getting ill'.

'Indeed father, I am sure that I am just tired from my journey,' Margaret insisted. 'Please, do not worry about me. I shall be alright after a bit of rest'.

'If you're sure,' he replied, but he still did not look entirely convinced.

'It's quite alright, Mr Hale, I'm sure Mrs Lennox wouldn't want to listen to us ramble about philosophy all evening,' Mr Thornton said with a slight smile.

'On the contrary, I find it very interesting,' Margaret assured him. 'But I'm afraid that if I stay in my fatigued state, I'll be in danger of appearing disinterested'.

'If you insist,' Mr Hale nodded.

'I do,' Margaret nodded and turned quickly to exit the room.

Hurrying up the stairs and to her bedroom, she let out a great sigh and collapsed onto her bed. Although she was yet to experience much of Milton, she had to wonder about her mother's withdrawal. She knew that her mother was unwell, but there was a distance between her parents that hadn't been there before.

Margaret lay back and let sleep take her, not sparing a thought for the gown she still wore. The bed beneath her felt wonderfully soft after her long journey, and it was such a relief to be somewhere that she now knew she belonged.

It felt like only moments later she was awoken by the sounds of voices down the hallway. She recognised her father's instantly and could only assume the others was Mr Thornton's. Looking at the small clock on the mantelpiece, Margaret realised that she had been asleep for over almost two hours.

She got up slowly and decided it would be a good idea to check on her mother. In her haste she came flying out of her room and ran straight into someone coming the other way. The air left her lungs and she almost fell, but strong arms came up to steady her immediately.

'Goodness,' she uttered. 'You must forgive me; I was not looking where I was going'.

'Are you alright?'

Margaret looked up into the piercing eyes of Mr Thornton and then down to where his hands still held her shoulders. He moved them quickly as though he'd forgotten that they were still resting there.

'Y-yes, I thank you. Again, I apologise'.

'Not necessary,' Mr Thornton shook his head and then turned to look behind him. 'I believe your father has retired for the night. I said I'd see myself out'.

Margaret merely nodded.

'Would you object if I came to collect you tomorrow afternoon?' he asked quickly. 'My sister will be very eager to make your acquaintance'.

'Yes, of course,' Margaret smiled. 'I will look forward to it'.

Mr Thornton nodded. 'Goodnight, Mrs Lennox'.

**xxx**

**So I think that the next chapter might have a bit of John's POV. In order to tell the whole story I do think I still need to show both sides. Next chapter might be a bit longer though as I do actually have to do assignment too :(**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm sorry this has taken me so long. Between uni and work, life hasn't been giving me much time to write more. I must confess, I was a little discouraged by the review that insinuated that I was writing a 'tale of adultery' so to speak. I don't claim to be a perfect person by any means, but I am a Christian and I would never write something like that. Besides, it would be an insult to the original work to do so. Anyway, now that I've defended myself, I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

**xxx**

By the time John reached the Hale residence it was well into the afternoon and he feared that he had kept Mrs Lennox waiting too long. Someone accustomed to life in London must after all, need a great deal more entertainment than could be found in Milton.

He thought back to the night before when she had burst into the hallway and nearly knocked them both to the ground. Her cheeks had been flushed and a few tendrils of her brown curls had escaped her updo. She had been, for lack of more fitting words, charmingly wild-looking.

Mr Thornton was no stranger to the wiles of women. Many a young lady had attempted to acquire his interest, but John had rarely paid them any mind. He was always so busy, and they always wanted to draw his attention away from his work. Not a single one of them were as beautiful as the woman he'd met the day previous.

John chided himself as he walked up the steps. Such thoughts about another man's wife could never be a good thing and he would do well to remember it.

He knocked on the door and it was answered almost immediately by Margaret herself. Dressed in a simple blue skirt and a white blouse, she was breathtaking.

'Mr Thornton,' she greeted him with a happy smile that lit up her eyes wonderfully. 'I was just about to go out'.

'Out?' he asked. 'I'm not interrupting'.

'Oh no,' Margaret shook her head, 'I would be grateful for your company. I was just going to locate the nearest grocer so I know where to go tomorrow. Dixon's directions were most difficult to understand and I feared I would get lost'.

Surprised that a lady such as herself would be attending to the grocery shopping, Mr Thornton was at a temporary loss for words as she closed the door and moved to stand beside him.

'I believe there is such an establishment in the next street,' he nodded and led her down the front steps and out into the street.

He observed with amusement the childlike wonder in her eyes as they walked on. Her neck swivelled around so often that he was surprised she hadn't sprained it in her curiosity.

'Goodness,' she murmured as they passed the entrance to one of the poorer side streets.

Having grown up around industry, Mr Thornton did not notice as keenly the various smells associated with Milton. His nose had learnt to ignore those things that outsiders would deem unpleasant.

Margaret carefully took out her handkerchief and put it to her mouth and nose as she moved closer to the entrance.

'Mrs Lennox,' Mr Thornton attempted to draw her attention and she turned to face him with soft, sad eyes.

'Yes?'

'The grocer is this way,' he gestured down the street.

'How many people live like that?' she murmured as they continued down the street.

'You had best not dwell on it,' he replied sternly. 'I very much doubt that you will have cause to venture anywhere like that during your stay here'.

'Those poor people. Is there not anything that can be done for them?'

'Nothing that you or I can do as individuals,' he sniffed and walked onward. 'I imagine such places would exist in London also'.

'Well yes,' Margaret nodded, 'but I am not from London, sir. I may live there now, but if I had my choice, I would be living in the country again with my parents'.

Mr Thornton frowned. 'And what of Mr Lennox? What would he do there?'

Margaret sighed. 'Forgive me; I must sound so very improper. I am sure you must think me such an ungrateful child'.

Mr Thornton opened his mouth to respond, but at the same time a cab came rushing around the bend towards them. He scarcely had time to seize Mrs Lennox and pull her with him before the cab came crashing past, right where she had stood moments before.

'Are you injured?' he asked instantly and she shook her head, eyes wide with shock.

'Help!' a voice cried.

The pair whirled around to see the cab had lost a wheel and slid right into some people walking along the same path as them. There, a middle-aged man was calling for help, at the same time as trying to heave the ruined cab off of a young lady.

Margaret gasped and hurried over to the man who had yelled. 'Is she alright?'

The man looked up at her in surprise for a moment before replying in a gruff, northern accent. 'She's got 'er leg caught. I can't lift it, m'not strong enough'.

Margaret turned back to her companion. 'Mr Thornton, can you help?'

Unsure of what to do, but seeing no one else stepping forward to offer assistance, he tugged off his overcoat and hurried over, pulling up the sleeves of his shirt as he did.

With help from Mr Thornton and reassurance from Margaret, the men managed to dislodge the woman's leg and Margaret assisted her to get up and out of danger.

'Thank you,' the man nodded and reached out a hand to Mr Thornton.

Mr Thornton hesitated for a moment before taking it and nodding back. 'Higgins, isn't it?'

'Yes sir,' the man nodded. 'And Bessy'.

Mr Thornton's eyes turned to the girl. 'I believe you work for me'.

'Yes Master,' Bessy replied breathlessly.

'Your leg, can you work on it?'

'Surely not,' Margaret cut in before Bessy could reply.

Mr Thornton frowned. 'Excuse me?'

'Mr Thornton,' Margaret raised herself up a little to speak to him. 'Her leg is injured, sir. She cannot work, even if she would wish to. She must see a doctor'.

'With all due respect, Miss,' Mr Higgins cut in. 'Doctors are an expensive business. We cannot afford to pay one'.

'Then you must allow me to help,' she replied instantly. 'I am no doctor, to be sure, but I have learnt some things about medicines during my time in London'.

Mr Thornton stood still as he observed the small woman lean down and pull Bessy's arm up and around her shoulder. Mr Higgins quickly followed suit on the other side and the pair were able to support her.

'Mr Thornton,' Margaret addressed him. 'I am afraid that I may not be able to pay your sister a visit today. Would you apologise to her on my behalf and promise her another day?'

'Of course,' he murmured and watched on in silent amazement as she nodded her farewell and the three of them made their way slowly down the street in the opposite direction.

John made his way home slowly with even more distracting thoughts in his head. In fact, he was just reflecting on how lovely and rosy Mrs Lennox's cheeks had been, when the door opened in front him.

Fanny stood before him with a look of confusion and mild irritation on her face. She had expected her brother to bring the London lady back with him and yet there he was alone.

He listened to her sighs and complaints that she had changed a total of five times to find the right dress to wear, when their mother entered the hallway and called John into the sitting room.

'So, what happened, John?' she asked. 'Although I might not be so put out as Fanny, I too was under the impression that a guest would be joining us this afternoon'.

John sighed. 'There was an accident and she was needed'.

'Accident? Not Mrs Hale?'

'No,' John shook his head. 'A cab lost control in the street. Must've been a broken wheel,' he thought to himself as it dawned on him that he never thought to find out.

'Was she injured?'

Mr Thornton shook his head. 'No, but she came to the rescue of a young woman who was. She insisted on helping her home and caring for her…' he trailed off.

'Was the woman anyone we know?' Mrs Thornton asked disinterestedly.

'She works in the mill,' John cleared his throat. 'Bessy Higgins'.

Mrs Thornton raised an eyebrow. 'Interesting company for a lady of London'.

John ignored her comment and walked over to stand by the window. Mrs Thornton observed him there for a moment before she came to join him.

'I think you need to be careful, John,' she urged him quietly.

'What?' he murmured back distractedly, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Mrs Thornton sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. 'We all want things that we cannot have, John. Perhaps it is better that Mrs Lennox doesn't visit'.

'Mother, what'—

'Don't pretend you don't know what I mean,' she sighed again. 'I may not have ever seen it on you before, but I know the look of a man who's infatuated'.

She turned on her heel then and strode back across to the table where she had been going over some papers. John turned back to the window and stared out into the courtyard, shame rising in his stomach.

**xxx**

**Again, I don't know when the next one will be, but if you bear with me, there will definitely be more. Thanks again guys :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Not a huge chapter this time, but I'm already working on the next one. Thank you so much for the support you've given me on this story. Updates will be as frequent as I can make them. I got my most recent assignment in on Tuesday, so this was the little tidbit I've managed since then. I promise you guys that I will not give up on this story. Whether it is a week or a month, I will keep updating it until it's finished. I'm enjoying myself far too much not to. **

**Enjoy :)**

**xxx**

Margaret had accompanied the Higgins' to their small living space with a heavy heart. She had no idea that people lived in such a way, and the Higgins' house wasn't the most decrepit by far.

Having lived in the country and then in one of the nicer parts of London, Margaret had never had cause to see where the other half lived, aside from the occasional trip she took to offer food to the homeless.

'I know it's not much, Miss,' said Mr Higgins, having obviously noticed the way she stared around in shock.

'Oh, no I'—

'It's alright, Miss,' he replied with a half-smile. 'But I'm afraid I don't often like strangers in my house. My name is Nicholas Higgins, and this is Bessy. My other daughter, Mary is currently out'.

Margaret smiled. 'It is lovely to meet both of you, even if it is in these circumstances,' she gestured to Bessy's leg. 'My name is Margaret Ha…' she trailed off.

'Miss?'

Margaret regained her composure. 'Margaret Lennox. My mother and father moved up here a few months ago. Perhaps you may have heard of the Hale's?'

Nicholas nodded and moved gestured for them to sit at the table. 'Aye, I've heard of your father. He teaches at the hall, couple of streets away'.

Margaret nodded. 'Yes, I believe he is flourishing as a teacher,' she smiled and then turned to Bessy. 'Now, may I see your leg?'

Bessy nodded and watched on as Margaret gently assessed her injuries.

'Are you married, Miss?'

'Please, call me Margaret,' she smiled warmly, 'and yes, I am married. My husband's name is Henry and he is a lawyer in London'.

Bessy nodded slowly. 'So, if he's in London, why are you here?'

Margaret paused for a moment and she saw Nicholas send Bessy a strange look that she couldn't quite read.

'I found that London wasn't agreeing with me at present and I wished to visit my parents,' she replied simply.

'All alone?'

Margaret nodded. 'Henry couldn't be spared from his work. Anyway, I quite like time to myself'.

Bessy sighed. 'I've sometimes wondered what it would be like to be married to some great man'.

Margaret chuckled and said no more on the subject.

Xxx

Before she left the Higgins' house, Margaret made sure that Bessy was resting, and that the young woman understood her need to relax in order to heal. Luckily for her, the injury appeared to be mostly superficial and would heal in a matter of days.

Still, Margaret was haunted by the thought that Bessy would not be able to afford a doctor, even if she wished to see one. In Helstone, anyone with any minor ailment could go to her father and find some sort of relief, whether it be through medical help or prayer, there was always something they could do.

Margaret found her way back to her parent's house surprisingly well and she hurried back up to her room. On her bed was an envelope with her name written on it in familiar handwriting. Margaret smiled to herself as she picked it up and turned it over to see her cousins address on the other side. Carefully removing her shawl, she opened the letter and perused the contents.

_My dearest Margaret,_

_It has scarce been minutes since you left and yet I miss you already. Henry left directly and went back to his practice. I do believe he will miss you greatly. How could he not after being so lucky as to marry a woman such as you? _

Margaret sighed and smiled a soft smile for her sweet, oblivious cousin. As upsetting as it would be for everyone to hear, Margaret knew that Henry would hardly notice her absence if she decided to stay a year.

_I am sending this letter after you so that you don't forget to write to me. I do hope my Uncle and Aunt are fairing well. Tell me everything, my dear Margaret. Is life up there so harsh as I've been led to believe? And the people, are they rough and disagreeable? I almost hope that they are, so you'll want to come home again sooner. _

Margaret smiled again. If it had been her choice, Edith would have had them all live together in the one house. Henry had decided that it would be disruptive to have so many people in the same house and Margaret had agreed with him. As much as she loved company, those quiet moments by herself were something that she cherished greatly.

The rest of Edith's letter was merely her talking about how she was coping with her pregnancy and well wishes for Margaret and her parents.

Margaret took a seat by the window to pen her response and looked down into the street below as she thought of what to write back. Most of the people were gone at that hour, but there were still a few packing away their things. Margaret wondered absent-mindedly if they had a home to go to.

_Dear Edith, _

_I am happy to report that I have reached Mama and Papas safely. My father is well, and we dined last night with a pupil of his, who is quite a gentlemanly sort. _

Margaret paused to think of how best to describe him. His icy blue eyes flashed across her mind and she shivered a little. Deciding it would be better not to spend too much time describing the man, she continued with her update on everything in Milton.

Still, even as she wrote of other things, she could not stop the sharp features of his face from coming to her mind. Indeed, he was handsome. Perhaps far more handsome than she had thought that she would ever find anyone.

A quiet knock at the door stole her from her thoughts and she was glad when Dixon emerged, carrying a small supper tray.

'Dixon, what's this?' Margaret enquired as the older woman placed the tray down on the nearby table.

'I saw you come in and I knew you wouldn't have eaten,' Dixon sighed and began setting a place for Margaret.

Margaret smiled. 'You never miss a thing, do you?'

Dixon gave her a small smile in response.

'How is mother this evening?'

Dixon nodded. 'Better. I think that you coming here has given her a bit more energy. She ate a full meal and even sat with your father for a time'.

'Have they not been sitting together?' Margaret asked.

Dixon sniffed. 'Not a lot. It's very difficult for her up here and the Master is always so busy with studies or pupils that she doesn't feel she should disturb him'.

'She hasn't forgiven him for the move, has she?'

Dixon paused, but said nothing.

Margaret sighed. 'If only I could bring them both down to London'.

Dixon smiled sadly. 'I don't think she would do well taking the trip'.

'Is she really so bad?' Margaret asked quietly.

'Like I told you yesterday, Miss. The missus doesn't agree with this place and it doesn't agree with her'.

Margaret thanked Dixon again for the meal and the older woman took her leave. Margaret picked at her food for a while before deciding that it was time for her to go to bed.

**xxx**

**There will be more Thornton interaction in the next one, I promise. Maybe even some family to meet. Thanks again, guys!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! Yes, I'm still here and yes I'm still working on this story when I get the time. I'm on uni placement at the moment, so I've had lots of study time to use on this instead :P Anyway, thank you all so much for your support. It means so much to me to see others enjoying my ramblings. Enjoy the new chapter x**

**xxx**

Margaret spent the majority of the next day at the Higgins' house entertaining Bessy and almost completely forgetting that she was yet to meet the rest of the Thorntons. As it so happened, it was a good three days later that Margaret saw anything of Mr Thornton at all. She had busied herself so much with befriending the Higgins' and caring for her mother, that the gentleman and his family had almost slipped her mind. Almost.

It was almost midday when Margaret decided to go out into the street. Whilst she had met and subsequently avoided several more interesting characters, she was quickly coming to know the surrounding streets and had even walked past Marlborough mills at a time, which she knew to be Mr Thornton's business.

Naturally, she had not stopped long to look, as there were people bustling around everywhere, but she gathered that it was a very prosperous business, despite her own personal views on cotton.

She was just rounding the very same corner that she and Mr Thornton had been walking when the cab had wounded Bessy, when she almost ran straight into two people coming the other way.

She looked up into the face of the fair, blonde lady, but her apology died on her lips when she saw the lady's companion.

'Mrs Lennox,' greeted the low voice of Mr Thornton. 'We were just coming to call upon you'.

'Oh?' she looked between the two and felt a strange sensation in her stomach as she observed the woman's arm linked firmly around his.

'Yes,' he affirmed, 'my sister has been rather unhappy that it has taken me days to introduce the two of you'.

Margaret looked once more at the blonde and she realised instantly her mistake. Trying to ignore the feeling of relief that overcame her, she raised her hand out to the other lady.

'It is a pleasure to meet you,' she smiled sweetly as Miss Thornton took her hand. 'My father has been educating me on northern customs. I believe I may soon master the handshake'.

Mr Thornton chuckled softly, but Miss Thornton looked mortified. 'Oh, I only do that when I have to. I'm much more interested in what they do in the south. Coming from the beauty of London, you must find this place a nightmare,' she glanced around the dusty streets and held on tighter to Mr Thornton's arm.

'On the contrary, I find it fascinating,' Margaret smiled warmly at the girl. 'One can have more than their fair share of London finery'.

Miss Thornton looked gobsmacked, while Mr Thornton merely watched Margaret with a strange, penetrating look that made her shiver slightly. Never before had a man caused her such discomfort. Edith had described similar feelings when she had recounted her first meeting with Captain Lennox. She said that a mere look across the room from him would send her stomach into a flurry of nerves. Edith described it as a thousand little butterflies beating their wings against her stomach. Margaret had always thought that her cousin was dreamy and a little too easily affected, but she was beginning to fear that Edith had been accurate in her description.

'Would you care to join us?' the man himself asked before his sister could object to Margaret's reply. 'Our mother would very much like you meet you also'.

'Of course,' Margaret smiled shyly and nodded her head. Mr Thornton's eyes lingered a little longer on her face before he turned his head.

The three of them walked together, making polite conversation. Mr Thornton asked the usual questions about her parents and Miss Thornton would on occasion interject with an excited query of some kind. Almost all these questions pertained to London, the newest fashions, and what parties and events Margaret had attended.

Margaret was very sorry that she could not be more entertaining, as she explained again and again that she went but rarely to most of the things Miss Thornton asked her about. They did discover however that Margaret and Miss Thornton shared a love of music and both enjoyed playing the piano. Miss Thornton then launched into a passionate speech about her love of the piano and her opinion that it was an essential happiness of hers.

Margaret nodded along with what the other lady said but did not quite share such an undying love for the instrument. She enjoyed listening to the instrument played well but had only taken up playing more herself in the last few months of her marriage. Henry had bought the instrument second hand from an auction. She was sure that it was his way to divert her whilst she was alone in the house, but she was quite thankful nonetheless and took to playing it often.

By the time they were at the gates of Marlborough mills, Margaret had decided in her mind that she quite liked Miss Thornton, or Fanny as she insisted she call her. Whilst she wasn't as soft and gentle as Edith, or as humorous and witty as Bessy, she was only a child eager to learn about and explore the world. Her attitude towards the lower class left something to be desired however, as Margaret had seen in her reactions to the beggars they had passed in the street, but Margaret knew that this was an unfortunate result of her breeding and not necessarily the girl's fault entirely.

This made Margaret wonder what sort of a woman Mrs Thornton was. Her father had told her about the unpleasant circumstances surrounding the father's death and Margaret felt genuine compassion for them. Mr Hale had also gone out of his way to sing the praises of Mr Thornton for stepping up and becoming a great man.

A servant greeted them at the entrance of the large house situated within the mill walls. Margaret trailed behind the other two as they led the way down a long corridor and up a wide, dark staircase.

Margaret found herself wondering at the interesting design of the house, and in comparing it to her own richly furnished home in London, she found she liked it better. Everything was elegant without any of the gaudy colours or decorations that her aunt had insisted she get when they made any changes to the house in London.

When they entered the next room, Margaret was met with the sight of a stern-looking dark-haired woman writing at the large dining table. She looked up as they came further into the room and slowly put down her work and rose to her feet.

She bowed her head. 'You must be Mrs Lennox. My daughter has been anxious to meet you since she first heard of your arrival'.

Margaret observed the way the woman's eyes flickered across to Mr Thornton before resting on her once more.

'It is a pleasure to meet you,' Margaret bowed her head in return. 'Though I am afraid I have already proven much less exciting than Miss Thornton may have hoped'.

'Oh no, Mrs Lennox,' Fanny smiled. 'I assure you, you're the most exciting person I've met for a long time'.

Margaret smiled good-naturedly and allowed the conversation to shift past the usual pleasantries to more interesting topics. Fanny insisted that she join her on the settee, and the two of them talked for quite some time. Then, it was time for them to play the piano and Margaret allowed herself to be led over to the beautiful instrument. Fanny played Margaret her favourite tune and then insisted Margaret play one of her own. Margaret obliged, but found it a little difficult to concentrate. She knew the piece well and had played it many times alone or with friends, but never had she had such an intense audience as Mr Thornton, who sat at a desk in the corner of the room, his work discarded before him and his gaze upon her.

By the time Margaret realised how late it had become, there was barely enough light left for her to make it home before it was truly dark outside. Fanny had offered to order a cab, but Margaret insisted that no such trouble be gone to on her account. In the end, it was settled that she would walk, but Mr Thornton would accompany her, lest she be happened upon by some unsavoury character in the streets as they emptied.

As they exited the mill yard, Mr Thornton cleared his throat and offered her his arm. Margaret was a little taken aback at first, but carefully slipped her arm through his. A foreign tingling sensation shot up her arm instantly at the touch and she felt her cheeks heat up a little. Whether he noticed their colouring or not, he did not make mention of it as they set off in the direction of the Hale residence.

'Your sister certainly loves company,' said Margaret after a few moments of silence, but for the bustling of people packing away their wares in the street around them.

Mr Thornton smiled softly. 'Yes, my sister grows a little tired of mine and our mother's company. She would love nothing more than to have a sister all to herself'.

'I take it that you and your sister are your mother's only children?'

'Aye,' he nodded. 'Fanny has grown up wanting for nothing, but she's lonely. My mother and I are much too busy to give her the attention she desires. I do hope she doesn't tire you too much'.

'Oh no, of course not. I understand what it's like to be lonely,' Margaret shrugged. 'It is important to have people to care about you'.

'I imagine you have many people to care for you,' he observed quietly.

Margaret sighed softly. 'One can have any number of people around them and yet feel as lonely as if they had none. It isn't the people that matter, but what they offer. Indeed, I have met more agreeable people here than most of those I've left in London'.

'I wouldn't let Fanny hear you say that,' Mr Thornton chuckled. 'She cannot wait to leave this place'.

'And what about you?' Margaret asked interestedly as they rounded the final corner to the Hale's street. 'Do you have any desire to go elsewhere?'

'No, this place is my home and my livelihood. I never thought of going somewhere else unless it were to bring new ideas and advancements to my business. You might think me a machine, but I've worked far too hard for my position in this town to wish to go anywhere else'.

'Would you not grow tired of it?' she turned to ask him as they stopped at the steps of the Hale house.

Mr Thornton's face softened into a smile and Margaret felt her heart thump faster in her chest. 'Like you said, Mrs Lennox, it's not the people, but what they offer. I believe the same can be said for places. I believe that Milton has a lot more to offer me than anywhere else, even London'.

Margaret smiled a little at that. 'You are very sure of your opinions, Mr Thornton. I wish I could be so sure'.

A few moments of silence passed between them before Mr Thornton cleared his throat. 'I must be getting back. Thank you for showing kindness to my sister. I do not believe I've seen her quite so happy in months'.

'You owe me no such thanks. It is you I am thankful to for initiating our introduction, and for the very great kindness you show to my father. I know he greatly values and appreciates your friendship'.

Mr Thornton smiled again, just a little. 'He is a good man. It is my privilege to know him'.

Margaret smiled even wider at that and was all at once entranced by that strange look she was beginning to find familiar from Mr Thornton. His eyes bore into hers and she felt the warmth flood her cheeks once more.

Suddenly the door burst open and a very flustered Dixon appeared, looking relieved when she saw Margaret.

'Goodness me, Miss. I thought for sure you'd gotten lost in the darkness or some unsavoury character had swept you away'.

'Calm yourself, Dixon,' Margaret replied coolly to the older woman. 'It is not yet dark, and Mr Thornton was kind enough to escort me safely back'.

'Good thing too,' Dixon grumbled. 'I don't know what I'd say to that husband of yours if something happened to you whilst you were here'.

Margaret winced slightly at the mention of Henry in front of Mr Thornton but maintained her composure as she turned back to the gentleman in question. 'I would invite you to join us for dinner, Mr Thornton, but I am afraid my mother is still a little unwell, and my father is likely resting at this hour'.

'Do not trouble yourself,' he murmured. 'I must be leaving in any case'.

Margaret nodded. 'Thank you again for your kindness'.

'Goodnight, Mrs Lennox,' Mr Thornton tipped the brim of his hat to her and turned to leave.

'Goodnight, Mr Thornton,' the murmured in reply and then retreated into the house.

Once the door was firmly shut behind her, she turned to rest her back against the cool wood. As perhaps as inappropriate as their conversation had been, Margaret's heart sang at the memory of his arm around hers and that soft smile that played on his lips.

She lent her head back and gently bumped it against the wood. Now she feared that the very worst had happened. No, not feared. This was beyond the point of fearing. Now she knew that she was quickly developing feelings for a man that she could never know as anything more than an acquaintance.

**xxx**

**So there we have it. Yes, I know some people may feel like this is a little bit rushed, but just take a step back and think about what Margaret's life has become. She is lost and lonely and has realised that she has ruined her chances of having a truly happy life. There definitely was that spark of attraction between her and Thornton originally, but because of the way they met and of the different views they presented from the beginning, things were not off to a great start. Here however, they have not had reason to question or despise the others views and Margaret is a little blown away by this handsome, intelligent man that just so happens to ignite something in her that Henry never could. As for how John feels, well that's pretty obvious. He is very attracted to this woman and he knows someone already put a ring on it. Bummer. He is wrestling with his own heart to try not to feel anything more for her than he already does. Anyway, I am getting far too passionate about this for this hour. I need to sleep before placement again in the morning. Thank you all for reading and I hope that you stick around for the ride to come :) **


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm sorry it's been so long! I've had most of this chapter finished for a little while now, but I've also had assignments due every other week and it's been pretty full on. Now I've got no more for the year, so I'm hoping to give you guys a few more frequent updates. Thank you all so much for the support as usual. You're all amazing!**

**xxx**

Nearly two weeks after Margaret's arrival in Milton, she found herself on the increasingly familiar walk to Marlborough mills. The night air was still crisp, despite their being well into spring. Margaret held tighter to her father's arm and he smiled down at her as she shivered.

'You've become a fine woman, Margaret,' he announced proudly. 'I did have my doubts giving you away those months ago, but you seem to have flourished as a wife'.

Margaret smiled softly at her father's obliviousness. 'You had doubts, father?'

'Oh yes,' he patted her hand and then held it in his as they walked. 'Henry is an intelligent fellow and very kind, but I did wonder for a time if he had the same passionate nature as you do'.

Margaret stayed silent. Her father was correct, and it surprised her some that he'd been able to notice their differences so plainly. Yes, Margaret knew exactly what her father had seen to cause doubt. She also knew exactly the man that harboured that same passion in his nature. The difference between Henry and John was as stark as night and day.

At that exact moment as though in tune with her thoughts, they rounded the corner to see Mr Thornton standing by the gate to the mill, speaking heatedly with a man in tattered clothing. The conversation soon turned hostile and Mr Thornton shoved the man back, yelling for him to leave and never return.

'Goodness,' Margaret uttered quietly as the man retreated and Mr Thornton's eyes whipped in their direction at the sound of her voice.

'Mr Hale, Mrs Lennox,' he greeted, and even in the dim light, Margaret could see the shadow of regret in his eyes. 'I am sorry that you had to witness that'.

'Who was he?' Margaret asked, turning to scan the darkness for the man.

Clearly noticing the pity in her voice, Mr Thornton scowled. 'He used to work in my mill'.

'Used to?' Margaret queried.

Mr Thornton's eyes met hers with a dark intensity. 'Yes, and despite my warnings, he continued to smoke in the mill'.

'And that's worthy of dismissal?' she asked curiously.

'Of course,' he replied lowly. 'If his pipe were to have caught anything on fire, the whole building would've gone up in minutes and that would've been the end of it'.

'I see,' she nodded and lowered her eyes away from his piercing gaze.

They walked into the courtyard in silence and even as they entered the house and the gentlemen began conversing quietly, Margaret did not join in. She was torn between pitying the man and understanding Mr Thornton's reaction. She felt foolish for not realising the danger of the man's actions and hoped that Mr Thornton did not think her simple.

A servant helped Margaret remove her coat and she shivered a little as the cool air hit the exposed skin of her neck and shoulders. She was secretly a little embarrassed of her attire, but her aunt had insisted that she update her wardrobe when she moved to London. The gown was not like that of royalty, by any means, but it had an intricate lace design on the bodice and a small ruffle around the neckline that Margaret was unaccustomed to. The dress itself was a delicate blue with white detailing that appeared almost silver in some lights.

As caught up in her own embarrassment as she was, Margaret did not notice Mr Thornton falter in his steps as he turned to look at her, nor did she see the look of sadness in his eyes as he observed her beauty.

Fanny was most excited that Margaret and her father were to join them for dinner and was quick to shower Margaret with praises for her dress. She sighed and expressed for the fourth time already that evening how much she longed to go to London.

Margaret listened on in amusement but did not encourage Fanny's interest too much with Mrs Thornton so close by. She could see that the older woman disapproved of Fanny wishing to be anywhere in the world but Milton and had to smile to herself that a daughter could be so very different to her mother. Although she supposed that she wasn't entirely too much like her mother either.

Still wearing an amused smile, she looked up across the table and met the gaze of Mr Thornton, already in her direction. The same tingling sensation shot through her and warmth flooded from her chest as she slowly averted her eyes from his. She had to remind herself that she was not in her own house and could not flee, lest she provoke gossip. Her time over the past two weeks had been spent actively trying to avoid Mr Thornton, even to the point of helping Dixon more in the kitchen whilst he was visiting with her father. Unfortunately, the lack of interaction had only caused her interest to grow and her mind to turn to him more often.

After dinner, Fanny played the piano for them all and after Fanny's insistence Margaret followed suit. She played another of her old favourites, a simple, yet beautiful tune that she had always loved. In fact, it had been the first song that she had played for Frederick back in Helstone. He had always teased her as brothers do, but even he had sat quietly and listened to her. In her heart that song was always for Frederick and she never allowed herself to forget a single note.

Another hour or so passed and Margaret and her father took their leave. They did not wish to be an inconvenience to their hosts and Margaret knew that her father would be in need of rest. They bad Mrs Thornton and Fanny goodnight and then Mr Thornton walked them out to the gate.

Mr Hale said a hearty goodbye to his friend, and it was returned with just as much enthusiasm. Margaret thanked him graciously for his hospitality and the smile she gave him made his heart race. The pair turned to leave, and John watched as they retreated down the dimly lit street. Had he not been looking in their direction, he would have missed Margaret glancing over her shoulder in his direction.

Heart thumping in his chest, he shut and locked the gate before making his way back inside. A little smile graced his lips as he made his way up the hallway and back into the main parlour where his mother sat.

He pretended not to notice, but he saw her eyeing him from the moment he entered the room. Neither of them said anything for some time so he busied himself with some papers, waiting for his mother to speak. And speak she did.

'I don't know what you think you're doing, John, but you'd best put a stop to it while you still can'.

He looked up at his mother with a furrowed brow. 'What do you mean?'

Mrs Thornton rolled her eyes and sighed. 'The girl, John. I saw the way she blushed at you. Whether she's happily married or not does not concern me. You're my concern and I won't have you becoming involved in some scandal'.

Mr Thornton looked down at his papers again and fiddled with his pen as he collected his thoughts. 'I know you warned me, mother, and I listened. There will be no scandal. Mrs Lennox will go back to London and that will be the end of any…' he trailed off, unable to complete his sentence. Unable to voice aloud the feelings that were plaguing him.

Mrs Thornton sighed again and gave him a rare smile. It was soft and sad, and he could see the pity in her eyes when she spoke once more.

'You couldn't have fallen for any other woman, could you?'

John chuckled softly. 'No mother. You and I both know that things don't always work out the way we hope. We just have to cope with what is given to us, whatever that may be'.

'Should you cancel your lessons with Mr Hale?' she asked.

John shook his head. 'No, they are not a problem. I scarcely see her anyway. Do not fear for me, mother. It will pass'.

Xxx

The next day, John busied himself with his work as he always did. He toiled away for hours at his desk, but no amount of orders could stop his mind from wandering to the beautiful woman that had captivated his interest. He had never known any thought to consume his mind so completely. Whilst they had not had more than a handful of conversations just between them, John had been paying attention every moment she was nearby. He would catch sight of her in the street shopping for the household groceries or bringing a basket of goods to the poor. She was goodness and light in a cold, dim world and he began to dread the day she decided to leave Milton. Even the way she listened to Fanny prattle on about her dreams made his heart soar. Margaret and Fanny were very different people, that much was clear, but he admired the former's patience with his sister.

Letting out a great sigh, he rose to his feet and pulled on his coat. No longer could he sit and stew whilst time wasted away. He needed to focus his mind again and he knew just where to go to do so.

Milton did not boast any wonderous sights or exciting attractions, but John did enjoy taking walks in a park nearby. The fresh air in the park was a welcome change and the frigid air was his usual cure for a distracted mind.

As he wandered along the dusty path, he felt like he could breath properly for the first time in days. Whilst the noise and bustle of the mill never bothered him, he was by nature a solitary being. His best thinking was done either in his office or out on his walks, and John Thornton had a lot to think about.

Up ahead on the same path, he spied two women walking together. One was short, with flat, dull clothing while the other cut a defined figure in clothes more befitting a lady. His heart sped up as he realised who the second lady was.

'You mustn't think badly of me,' Margaret was saying to the woman he soon realised was Bessy Higgins. 'I know that it is my duty as a wife'.

John was already interested in their conversation but was torn between listening further and giving the women their privacy. Oh, but it was Margaret speaking. How could he not wish to hear her opinions on her marriage? How could he not wish to know if she were unhappy?

'I must confess I never thought I'd feel sorry for someone marrying a wealthy man,' Bessy ventured, 'but I can see it through your eyes. I'd rather not marry at all than live such a lonely life'.

Margaret bowed her head. 'It is so very lonely, Bessy. I cannot express enough the relief I feel being here. Here where the people a much more agreeable to me'.

Bessy laughed. 'Even the Thorntons?'

John was listening intently now but had to maintain his distance lest they catch him listening to them.

'Miss Thornton is very young and inexperienced, but I find her enthusiasm for the world contagious and I cannot help but share it. Mrs Thornton is a good mother and she loves her children a great deal, that much is clear…'

'And Mr Thornton?' Bessy asked interestedly.

Margaret smiled and John's heart jumped into his throat. 'Mr Thornton is a gentleman and has been nothing but kind to my parents. I am very grateful to him'.

At that moment, another young lady came rushing up the hill towards them. She exchanged hurried words with Bessy and the latter apologised to Margaret before hurrying away. And just like that Mrs Lennox was alone.

John observed her for a moment as she looked out over Milton. She had a pensive look on her face and Mr Thornton yearned to know what she was thinking of. Almost of their own accord, his legs started to move and before long he was only a few short steps away from her.

She turned as he approached, and her eyes widened briefly, before she regained her composure and gave him a warm smile.

'Mr Thornton,' she greeted. 'I'm surprised to see you away from the mill at this hour'.

John smiled and nodded. 'Yes, I found myself unable to concentrate any longer, so I decided to take a walk to clear my mind'.

'I do hope I'm not distracting you then?'

'No, of course not,' he felt himself smile again and warmth flooded his chest. 'What brings you out here?'

'I was taking a walk with Bessy,' Margaret explained. 'As you know, she does not work every day yet as she is still regaining her strength'.

Mr Thornton frowned. 'It has almost been two weeks since the accident. Is she still not recovered?'

Margaret shook her head. 'I fear it has made her condition worse. Her lungs are in a very delicate condition. Her work has caused it and she will likely meet an early grave'.

'I do hope you don't blame me for this,' he said carefully. 'I would have you know that I value greatly the health of my workers'.

'No, of course not,' Margaret replied hurriedly. 'From what she has told me, the damage was done long before she worked at Marlborough mills'.

Mr Thornton nodded. He was more than aware of the working conditions in some of the other mills. He had heard the other Masters complaining of it often enough.

'Unfortunately, Mrs Lennox, some Masters do not make the welfare of their workers a priority'.

'But you do?'

Mr Thornton nodded. 'I like to think I make a good effort'.

Margaret nodded with him. 'Then it is a shame that Bessy did not work for you sooner'.

They stood in silence for a few moments and whilst Mrs Lennox surveyed the town, Mr Thornton's attention was divided between both the town and her.

'Do you plan to stay long in Milton?' he asked.

Margaret let out a small sigh. 'That is not my decision. If it were so I would live here with my parents for as long as they would have me'.

Mr Thornton frowned thoughtfully. 'You speak very openly about your situation'.

Margaret bowed her head a little at that. 'Forgive me, sir. I did not mean to be inappropriate. I have always been told I speak my mind far too freely'.

'On the contrary, I find it refreshing,' he smiled softly and for the briefest of moments their eyes met. A small smile had graced her lips as well and he found himself captivated as she turned her face back to the view.

He observed her complexion deepen just a little and he felt a forbidden satisfaction at knowing that he had affected her. This was short-lived however, as the clock chimed the new hour and he realised he had been gone for far too long. He hastily excused himself from Mrs Lennox and hurried back to the mills, his mind no less distracted than when he'd started his walk.

**xxx**

**So that's that. I do hope no one is finding the pacing a little too slow for their liking. I promise you that in the next few chapters we'll start to see some canon events occurring and some exciting changes I'm very much looking forward to writing. Drop me a review if you like. I'll answer any questions you have unless they contain too many spoilers ;P Thanks again! **


	8. Chapter 8

**So...here goes... I am so so sorry that I haven't updated in so long. I don't even know where to start with my reasons. I've had exams, summer subjects still going, I got engaged! Things have gone from 0-100 very quickly in my life and every time I tried to sit down to write, it just didn't happen. That being said, I have got a completed chapter here for you guys. Much more action in the next one though. Thank you all for your support and greetings to new readers.**

**xxx**

The day after her conversation with Mr Thornton in the park, Margaret was hurrying along the familiar path to the Higgins' household. Although she knew there was a risk to breaking her silence, she knew that she could no longer contain herself. She needed to tell someone about her feelings.

She knocked on the door and stood back, anxiously awaiting an answer. Mary answered the door as she quite often did, and even in her distracted state, Margaret noticed that something was different.

'Mary, is everything alright?' she asked quietly, laying a gentle hand on the woman's arm.

Mary shook her head and sniffed. 'Bessy is getting worse, Miss'.

There was a harsh cough from behind her and Margaret peered around Mary to see Bessy attempting to rise from the bed.

'Don't let her worry you,' Bessy called out through coughs. 'It's just a bad day'.

Margaret tried not to let her true concern show as she crossed the room and took Bessy by the hand. Her skin was unnaturally cool to the touch and Margaret made quick work of getting her back into the bed and piling on the blankets.

Mary murmured something about going to the grocers and fled the house. Margaret watched her go with a sad expression.

'She only wants to care for you, you know,' Margaret sighed as she crossed to the fire to prepare them some tea. 'She worries about you'.

Bessy took in a shaky breath and then exhaled loudly. 'She knows I'm not getting any better. All our lives it's been her and me, especially since mother died. Father is very good to us, but he needs time to himself'.

Margaret smiled softly and passed her a cup of hot tea. 'You must be very close'.

Bessy shrugged her shoulders. 'As close as we can be'.

They sat in silence for several moments before Bessy spoke again.

'Now, what did you come here to tell me?' When Margaret looked confused, she laughed. 'I reckon I could hear you coming from the end of the street. You were rushing for something and I'm sure it wasn't just to talk about me'.

Margaret exhaled a small laugh and became a little more interested in her hands. 'It's silly'.

'I've got time for silly,' Bessy sat up a little in the bed. 'I think we could both do with a bit more silly'.

'Bessy, you must promise never to tell a soul of this'.

'I'll not be telling anyone anything much longer. Don't worry, whatever it is, I'll keep it to myself'.

Margaret nodded and swallowed thickly before speaking. 'When I was a little girl, I never dreamt of getting married someday to some far away prince. I never thought about why I'd marry someone, just that I would. I assumed that one day I would find a suitable man, and all would be well. I suppose that what I'm trying to say is that I was never a romantic. I didn't believe that the love my parents share was possible for just anyone'.

'So, what's changed?' Bessy asked curiously.

'Since I've been in Milton, I've felt something…something stirring inside me. I now know what I wish I had months ago, before I married Henry. I've felt love and I can do nothing about it'.

'Oh Margaret,' Bessy cried and seized Margaret's hand.

'I know, I sound like a spoilt child,' Margaret sniffed. 'I have everything I ought to, and yet I want none of it. I would leave it all behind for a chance…'

Bessy smiled softly. 'And you said you weren't a romantic'.

Margaret laughed quietly. 'I suppose I could be'.

'And this man, does he feel the same way about you?'

Margaret paused. Nothing about Mr Thornton's manner had led her to believe he didn't have feelings for her, but at the same time, he was a gentleman. A gentleman who was aware of her unavailability.

'I don't know,' she uttered. 'It is best that I never know'.

'But you could leave,' Bessy pressed. 'You could run away to live in Spain with your brother'.

Margaret laughed at the thought. 'Even if he did return my feelings, this place is his home. His livelihood is here and his family. I could never ask anyone to leave their home'.

'It's a pity you didn't move here before you accepted Henry,' Bessy observed. 'Maybe you could have changed your mind'.

'I suspect I would have'.

Bessy leaned back on her pillows, smiling a little to herself. 'It's a shame, really. You'd have made us a good mistress'.

Margaret's eyes widened in surprise and Bessy laughed heartily, bringing about another bout of coughing. Margaret passed her a handkerchief and waited patiently for her coughing to subside. A hopelessness washed over her as she observed the way Bessy shuddered with every cough. She knew that there was nothing to be done.

'What makes you think the man is Mr Thornton?'

'Do you think I'm stupid?' Betty laughed. 'I may not have brains, but I do have eyes'.

Margaret swallowed thickly. 'Am I so obvious? Please Bessy, do tell me'.

'If I were not to know you, I wouldn't suspect anything serious. After all, most of your interactions with him are under the privacy of your own roof'.

'But you must understand why I insist upon your secrecy,' Margaret pressed. 'A married woman should never have such feelings for another man'.

'Hmm,' Bessy hummed. 'Poor Thornton'.

Margaret looked confused.

Bessy smirked. 'I've seen the way he looks at you when you've come to the mills. He's as much gone as you are, I'm certain of it'.

Xxx

Bessy's words echoed in Margaret's head long after she arrived back at her parent's residence. So distracted it made her, that she could hardly focus on anything else. Edith's latest letter lay abandoned on the bed beside her as she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, too exhausted to think any more.

The following day, Mr Hale announced happily over breakfast that they had been invited to a dinner party at Marlborough Mills, some two weeks away. Margaret did not have any desire to go, but Mr Hale told her that the invitation was for the both of them.

It pained Margaret that her father did not even try to pretend that his wife might attend with them. It was a sad truth they were attempting to ignore, that Mrs Hale would unlikely attend another such event in her lifetime.

Some days she would seem to be brighter, and Dixon would encourage her every advancement. It was admirable of Dixon to try, but Mrs Hale had lost her joy for living all those years ago when Frederick had been named a mutineer. Milton was merely revealing the feelings that Helstone had kept at bay.

The whole mood of the place caused Margaret to wonder whether she was better off leaving Milton. She could be no comfort to her mother when she knew that it was Frederick she desired most to see, and her father spent most of his time in his study, or with pupils.

As the days passed by and Margaret's resolve to leave strengthened, word reached her that the workers had all stopped working early and that the millworkers of Milton were striking.

Having spent many hours with Bessy and her family, Margaret sympathised with the plight of the workers and understood their desperation to be heard as more than just numbers in their master's records. Although, many of the workers, Nicholas included, had long since given up hope of anything of the sort. Men like him sort only to have their wages increased, so that they may better survive.

Margaret had heard whispers on the street of the tempers of the masters, and as much as they saddened her, she was not surprised at all by what she heard. She did however notice that not once was Mr Thornton placed on the same level as those more heartless employers. She was glad to know that even the workers could see that he was not quite so bad.

Xxx

By the time of the Thornton's dinner party, Margaret was miserable and wanted nothing more than to leave Milton. Since the strike began, the streets were mostly empty and the stillness of what was usually such a busy scene was sobering. There were even more beggars on the street, as desperate parents sent their young children out to solicit strangers for money. The money that the union could give, was not nearly enough for those larger families, and Margaret gave what little she could at every opportunity. She had overheard Mr Thornton and her father talking of such things and had been angered to hear Mr Thornton condemn such good doings. He believed it would only prolong the strike.

Besides a visit or two to her father, Margaret had not seen much of Mr Thornton at all since the strike began. With each visit to the Higgins' she realised more and more that they stood on separate sides, and yet she still caught herself thinking of him, wondering what he was feeling.

Margaret stood before the mirror and sighed, plucking at the skirts of her gown. Dixon had been surprised at her for her selection, but Margaret was quite insistent on her choice of gown. The soft, light green coloured gown had been one of her favourites for some time, and she was delighted to find it in the assortment of clothing she had packed with her some time before arriving in Milton.

She and her father travelled on foot to the Thornton's and along the way were joined by Mr Hale's old friend, Mr Bell, whom Margaret had not seen for many years until the day previous. He had greeted her as though he could only recall her as a child and made no mention of the letter she had sent him months ago. For this she was grateful, as any mention of it would have caused her father to ask questions and she did not wish to worry him.

Upon their entry into the Thornton's parlour, Margaret's eyes were on the move immediately, searching for their host. She found him over by one of the windows, speaking in quiet tones with another gentleman. He turned as they arrived, and she smiled politely, despite the tingling sensation that spread across her body.

His returning smile and sent a shiver down her spine and she had to overt her eyes before anyone else in the room could notice the exchange. This only strengthened her resolve. She would leave for London before the week was out.

Xxx

The evening passed with very little enjoyable conversation for Margaret. The mill owners were all rough and very unfeeling towards the plights of their workers. Still Margaret held her tongue, not wanting to draw any extra attention to herself. Despite being cunning businessmen, the mill owners, Mr Thornton excluded, seemed to lack the intellect to truly understand any contrary point of view. Thankfully, Mr Bell was by her side, providing some much-needed diversion from the insufferable men.

Margaret decided after a certain hour to retire back to her parent's dwelling, and Mr Bell insisted on accompanying her, as her father was still engaged in conversation with Mr Thornton.

'Thank you for a lovely evening, Mrs Thornton. Please do bid farewell to Miss Thornton on my behalf,' she bowed to the older woman as they made to leave. Fanny had long since grown bored of the gentlemen and had managed to slip away earlier.

Mrs Thornton nodded stiffly, and Margaret noticed the lines of fatigue on her strong features. The strike was clearly causing her a lot more concern than she would let on. Margaret pushed her concern aside as Mr Bell said his goodbyes and escorted her out into the courtyard. The last thing she'd seen before they left the room was Mr Thornton watching her intently.

'How did you enjoy your evening, my dear?' Mr Bell asked jovially, with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

Margaret smiled back at him. 'I feel you know me well enough to know that answer, Mr Bell'.

'Well,' he chuckled. 'I know it's nothing like the parties you've attended in London, no doubt, but surely it wasn't too unpleasant?'

'Indeed, it was very different. There was a lot more conversation of substance than one would find in London, and yet no sense to any of it'.

'Oh, I don't know,' Mr Bell sniffed. 'Thornton seems to have a decent grip on things'.

'Much more than any other Master,' Margaret agreed, looking up to see Mr Bell watching her closely.

'Margaret…' he began quietly. 'Have you and Mr Thornton spent much time together whilst you've been in Milton?'

'Some,' Margaret confessed, but continued to frown in confusion. 'I visit the house often to spend time with Miss Thornton'.

'He seems very taken with you'.

'Mr Bell'—

He held up his hand to silence her.

'I know, I'm a nosey old man who should mind his own business, but you are my goddaughter and I make my right to be concerned'.

Margaret sighed. 'I think perhaps he may enjoy my company, and that is why I've resolved myself to leave Milton'.

Mr Bell nodded. 'Perhaps that would be the most sensible decision'.

'Please don't breathe a word of any of this to father,' Margaret implored him. 'You know how much it would upset him'.

Mr Bell agreed, then said, 'I don't not think it would upset him in the way you believe it would. I believe his only cause for concern would be to know that his only daughter is unhappy in life'.

Margaret stayed quiet.

'I am truly sorry, Margaret,' he acknowledged as they reached the steps to the Hale's house. 'I would not wish it on anyone'.

Margaret merely nodded, thanked him for his escort and went inside.

**xxx**

**Thank you all so much again for your support. Hopefully the next one won't take as long, but if it does, I'm promising you now that I'll never abandon it without an ending. I know that pain all too well as a reader. Thanks again guys!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm back! Sorry for my absence. I didn't really go anywhere. It's not like I could if I wanted to these days. Anyway, with the current world situation, I've had more motivation to write. I haven't necessarily got more time, as I am a nurse in a nursing home and shifts are very plentiful, but I will try to keep this pumping out between work and uni work. Thank you guys for continuing to read this story and I apologise for the wait!**

**xxx**

Two days after the Thornton's dinner party, Margaret made her way through the streets in the direction of Marlborough mills. Since she had discussed her leaving with Mr Bell, she felt resigned. Thus, she had spent the last two days preparing her things, spending time with her few good friends, and delaying her departure. It was that day that she finally resolved to not only tell Miss Thornton of her departure the following day and bid farewell to the man she longed not to leave.

The streets were far quieter than days previous, and she wondered what had become of the people. Even with the strike, there had always been someone in the street. The quiet was eerie for what was ordinarily such a bustling place, and Margaret pulled her shawl more closely around her as she walked.

By the time she reached the gates to Marlborough mills, she had scarce seen a single soul. She rushed through the gates and was just about to make her way across the open yard when hurried footsteps startled her.

She turned to see Mr Thornton himself, jogging in her direction. 'Mrs Lennox, what are you doing here?' he questioned earnestly.

'I've come to see Fanny,' she responded softly. 'Forgive me, but is something wrong?'

'I'm sorry that you had to be here for this moment,' he murmured as he rushed past her to close and bolt the door.

'Mr Thornton, what is'—

'Please, Mrs Lennox, you must get inside where you will be safe'.

Still incredibly confused, Margaret heeded the seriousness of his tone and did as he bid her. The door to the house burst open as she approached and Fanny emerged, gesturing wildly for her to hurry inside.

'Fanny, what is the matter?'

'It's the strikers. They're coming to the mill! They're going to kill us!'

'Calm yourself, Fanny,' Margaret urged as she closed the door behind them. 'I am sure they will do you no harm'.

'Mrs Lennox,' a voice called from above and Margaret looked up to see Mrs Thornton at the top of the stairs. 'You chose a most opportune moment to visit today'.

'I merely wished to see you all one last time before I depart for London tomorrow,' Margaret replied calmly.

'You're leaving Milton?' Fanny asked just as a series of loud bangs erupted from outside.

'Upstairs,' Mrs Thornton ordered, and Fanny shrieked in fear.

The two younger women followed her quickly and took position by a window to observe the yard below.

Margaret's heart was thumping in her chest as she scanned the space. Where was he? Would he be safe?

'How long does it take to secure those workers?' Fanny huffed. 'If those strikers catch him, they will tear him limb from limb!'

'Fanny!' Mrs Thornton chided. 'They will do nothing of the sort'.

'What workers?' asked Margaret.

Mrs Thornton looked as though she wasn't going to answer for a moment before sighing. 'Hands from Ireland. With the strike going on so, we thought it a better idea to fill the jobs the strikers abandoned'.

'I see,' Margaret murmured and went back to looking out the window. Down below, she saw Mr Thornton hurrying to the house entrance and heard a servant conversing with him as he ascended the stairs.

'Did you send word, John?' Mrs Thornton asked instantly. 'Are you soldiers coming?'

'Aye,' Mr Thornton nodded. 'They will be here soon'.

'Could you not try to talk them down?'

Mr Thornton's head turned to her and she was met with his intense gaze. 'What would you have me say to them that would calm them?'

'I don't know, but surely there's a better alternative to violence?' Margaret suggested hopefully.

At that moment, the doors to the yard burst open as a flood of angry workers came coursing into the yard. They watched as some of the men went straight for the doors to the mill.

'Will you speak to them?' Margaret asked again.

Mr Thornton did not respond, but his eyes did not leave her face. She could see the thoughts swirling in his head and knew that he was trying to think of the best course of action.

'I will go,' she whispered.

'You will not,' he hissed quietly and took a step towards her.

'If they get into that mill, there will only be more violence. I will go,' she repeated.

'You will not'. He stepped even closer and took hold of her arms. His tone was lower and more dangerous than she had ever heard it and her heart was in her throat. 'I will'.

Margaret was shaking slightly as he slowly released her arms. As he went to move past her, she caught hold of his forearm. His eyes widened a little in confusion.

'Be careful, Mr Thornton,' she begged with soft eyes.

He turned and made his way out of the room.

Margaret's face burned brightly with colour as she took a moment to compose herself. The other two women were not so far away to have missed the exchange between them and she had no doubt of Mrs Thornton's thoughts when she met her hard eyes. She did not speak, but Margaret knew that were they not with Fanny, there would have been something said. It was after all, highly improper for a married lady to be so familiar with another gentleman.

As she observed the exchange between Mr Thornton and the angry mob, Margaret's heart sank. She wished only for there to be no violence, yet as she watched a man bend down to pick up a stone, she knew there was little hope for peace.

Fuelled by the same recklessness that had caused her to seize Mr Thornton's arm, she hurried out of the room and down the stairs. A servant tried to stop her as she strode purposefully towards the door, but she could not be stopped. She burst through the front entrance and out to where so many voices were attempting to be heard over one another.

'Stop! Please stop!' she cried to the crowd and Mr Thornton whirled around in bewilderment. 'How does this achieve anything? The soldiers are coming. Go back to your homes and this can be resolved peacefully'.

'Are you going to send the Irish home?' one man yelled to cries of agreement from others.

'Never!' Thornton yelled back with surprising ferocity that only made the men angrier.

'Please, this does not need to happen!' Margaret cried.

Mr Thornton turned to her. 'You need to go inside'.

'I will not. You cannot be here alone'.

'Please, Mrs Lennox, this is not safe for a woman,' he gestured to the door behind them.

'It is no safer for a lone man,' she retorted as he attempted to shepherd her in.

'Please, Mrs Lennox,' he hissed and took her wrists in his hands.

'I will not,' she shook her head and threw her arms up to stop him from pulling her away. They found purchase on his shoulders and their change in proximity was immediately apparent to them both.

'Margaret'—

Margaret felt a sudden sharp pain strike her temple and her vision went black. In that moment she had no idea where she was, and then she succumbed to unconsciousness.

xxx

When she finally awoke again, she was laying on a soft surface and cool breeze was fluttering across her face. Where could she possibly be?

Opening her eyes slowly, the first thing she noticed was Fanny in front of her, fanning her gently.

'Goodness, Mrs Lennox, I thought you'd never wake up'.

'I'm quite alright,' Margaret murmured groggily as she sat up.

'Don't move too much,' Fanny shrieked. 'Mama has gone for the doctor. You must rest'.

'Truly Fanny, I am alright,' Margaret assured her. 'Just a little worn out'.

'Fetch some water,' Fanny called to one of the servants. 'The doctor will still need to see you'.

'How did I get up here?' Margaret asked quietly.

Fanny pursed her lips. 'John carried you. A little improper of him, but I suppose that wasn't the only improper behaviour today'.

'Fanny'—

'She's up here,' the voice of Mrs Thornton carried up the stairs. She emerged moments later with a man in tow.

'I assure you, I am perfectly well,' Margaret insisted as the doctor knelt in front of her and had her turn her check to him.

As it turned out, she was correct in her claim and the doctor only cleaned the small wound and prescribed rest as her treatment. This was a great relief to Margaret, as she wished nothing more than to be away from those whose eyes were undoubtedly judging her.

As she gathered her shawl and purse, she turned back to the ladies once more before taking her leave.

'I only came to say my goodbyes. I am leaving for London tomorrow and I've been very grateful for your kindness and hospitality. Not only to myself but to my parents as well'.

Mrs Thornton nodded stiffly. 'While I'm sure that you will be in no hurry to return to this smoky place, rest assured that we will endeavour to extend every kindness to your parents, so much as they will accept it'.

'Yes, and you'll have to come back,' Fanny stepped forward to took one of Margaret's hand. 'Truly, there is so much more I wish to talk about. Perhaps I may even come to London sometime'.

The look on Mrs Thornton's face told Margaret that such a thing was unlikely to occur, despite Fanny's wishes. She bid the two of them goodbye and made her way out of the house. Whilst the strikers were gone, the streets had more life than they'd had earlier. Curious faces were peeking out of doorways while others were restoring the order to things that had been disturbed by the crowd.

Out across the yard, Margaret's eyes caught sight of a tall figure calling out orders to some workmen as they worked together to tidy up some of the mess. She secured her shawl around her and moved hastily in the direction of the exit. She could not speak to him. Her actions had betrayed her feelings and she knew not what he would think of her.

She paused before the gateway and could feel his eyes on her before she looked. His expression went from confusion to concern and he began to move in her direction. Fear shot through her and she hurried out of the yard and out into the streets.

He did not follow her. This gladdened her, as she did not need him to be involved any further in the gossip, she was sure she had already elicited by witnesses. Despite her heart's wish, they were not to be, and she would not have his reputation in tatters on account of her recklessness.

Xxx

She was gone. This same thought plagued John's mind as he made his way to the Hale residence the next afternoon. She wouldn't be back for quite some time, he imagined. That lovely, fearless creature was gone. He brought his hand to the place where she hand seized his arm for perhaps the hundredth time that day and remembered the warmth. Her earnest tone and her flushed cheeks. Oh, she was so beautiful. Despite his inner demons telling him otherwise, he did feel in that moment that she cared for him.

He was let into the house by Dixon as usual and was told that Mr Hale would be with him shortly. Standing silently in the foyer, he couldn't help but glance up the stairs in the direction of the bed chambers. He remembered the layout of the house from his original inspections for the Hales and he was certain he knew which room was hers. The temptation to venture there was almost too much, and only the sounds of Mr Hale approaching tore his thoughts from it.

'John,' Mr Hale greeted. 'I'm glad to see you looking well after yesterday. I half expected you'd be too busy for our lesson today'.

Mr Thornton smiled. 'I find myself in need of distraction'.

Mr Hale beamed back at him. 'As do I, my good fellow. The mood of the house is not the same now. I suppose you know that Margaret has gone back to London?'

'Yes, I did hear that. I suppose she was needed back in London. Not that it's any of my business'.

'I suppose so,' Mr Hale said with a sigh, offering John the chair opposite him. 'I'm a flawed man, John, as I'm sure you're aware, but if there's one thing I regret in my life, it's agreeing to let my daughter leave us'.

Mr Thornton leant back in his chair and raised his eyebrow a little in surprise. 'Did you not condone the match?'

'Well, I had no reason to truly object. Henry is a respectable man, as far as any lawyer I've met can be. He had as much chance to make her happy as any other man, yet now I see my child suffering'.

There was a pause while John tried to think of something to say. He longed to tell Mr Hale how he truly felt about his daughter. How he could have happily been his son. How he too wished that this man had never married Margaret.

'I'm sorry to burden you with this, John,' Mr Hale continued with a frown on his brow. 'I know it's not what you came here to hear'.

Mr Thornton smiled softly at that. 'I consider you a good friend, Richard. You've listened to my stories with patience. I'm happy to return that favour when needed'.

Mr Hale returned his smile. 'You're a good man, John. Now, back to what we were discussing last week…'

**xxx**

**So, stuff happened. I finally found my notes again for this story while I was trying to blindly remember the things I wanted to include. Things should pick up a bit after this as we'll get more Henry and just general action. Thanks again for reading. Stay posted for the next chapter ;)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Another update so soon? Why yes indeed, my friends. I've really been hit by some inspiration and I'm writing a lot more as a result. The next one might not be quite as soon, but hopefully shouldn't be too long!**

**xxx**

Two weeks after she left Milton saw Margaret well and truly up to date with everything that had occurred in her absence. She had spent most of her time with Edith and the baby, just enjoying the company of the young one. Sholto was a beautiful child and motherhood came easily to Edith. Despite her stories of sleepless nights, she looked well. Her complexion was glowing with happiness and Margaret felt quite envious of her contentment.

Henry had welcomed Margaret home with a swift peck to her cheek and a polite greeting. Margaret had smiled warmly and greeted him in a similar fashion, but she felt more than ever the lack of a romantic spark between the two of them. They shared a few conversations about the north and the events she had missed in London, but once the day was over, they would separate to their bed chambers and would not catch a glimpse of one another until the next afternoon.

Margaret had long since given up wondering whether the servants gossiped about the condition of their marriage. Such a trivial worry belonged to those with nothing better to occupy their thoughts with. One thing that did concern her, however, was her isolation. She had always felt alone with Henry, but this was different. Not only did she miss John Thornton, she had no one to tell her feelings to. Any ladies she would meet with in London were too silly for their own good and she feared telling Edith, lest she repeat it to Captain Lennox. She could never tell Edith anyway, as Edith had such delusions about their happy family that Margaret was sure it would destroy her for some time.

It did take Margaret some time to get used to the lack of sensible conversation among the Shaw women. She loved her aunt dearly, but the woman had very little of substance to talk about and very little intelligence to understand important issues.

'Margaret?' a soft voice called out from the hallway.

Margaret closed her book carefully and made her way over to the open door. 'Edith? I'm in here'.

Edith came down the hallway to meet her. One hand held Sholto close to her and the other held an envelope.

'This came for you this morning,' Edith explained. 'Are you feeling any better? I know you did not take breakfast this morning'.

'Yes, I am quite well,' Margaret assured her, taking the letter and gesturing for them to join her in the room.

'You like this little parlour, don't you?' Edith observed with a smile. 'You know, it could be all yours if you and Henry were to live with us. You could spend your mornings in here reading before Henry comes home from his practice'.

'It is a pretty room, Edith, but you know Henry values his privacy and quiet. I see you every day as it is'.

'Until you leave us again,' Edith pouted softly. 'I know you miss Milton'.

Margaret did not say anything for a moment as those words sunk in. She did miss Milton. Her life there felt like it meant something and the people there meant something.

'I do miss it,' she confessed aloud. 'I miss my parents and the good people I met there. I do love you and Sholto, but my life here isn't quite what I'd like it to be'.

'What do you mean?' Edith murmured quietly.

Margaret sighed and took her cousin's hand. 'Henry isn't like your Captain, Edith. I don't see him a lot and when I do there is very little to say to one another. I do like Henry, but I confess that I wasn't ready to marry anyone'.

Edith sat quietly for a few seconds. 'There are always fears when you marry, Margaret. Marriage is for your whole life. Choosing one person for the rest of your life isn't easy, but you learn together, and you grow together. I promise you that things will change, Margaret. Things will get better as you know each other better, you'll see'.

Margaret nodded and smiled warmly. 'Thank you, Edith'.

Edith beamed at her and stood up to leave. 'Now, I will leave you to your letter'.

Margaret nodded and waited until Edith was gone before she looked at the letter. A part of her wanted it to be from Mr Thornton, but she did not know it handwriting. It was with a little disappointment that she realised that it was from her father.

_Dear Margaret, _

_It feels like an age since you left us and yet it was only days ago. Unfortunately, I do not write to you with good news, dear Margaret. When attending his lesson yesterday, Mr Thornton informed me that a young lady in his employ has unfortunately passed away. He said that her name was Bessy and that you would want to know. Such an attentive lad, John. The other news I write to you about is your mother. She is feeling a little unwell and has expressed her wish for your return. Of course, I cannot refuse her anything. I am sure she will be feeling better tomorrow with a bit of rest, but I would not attest to you visiting again so soon. Send our love to your aunt and cousin. _

_R. Hale_

A wave of emotions hit Margaret all at once. Bessy was gone. Never again would they share an afternoon together. A single tear rolled down Margaret's cheek and she quickly dabbed it away with the back of her hand. Her mother was ill. She knew this already and yet for her mother to ask for her, it must be far worse than her father was telling her.

It was then that Margaret made up her mind to write a letter of her own. For anything else, she would not have dared, but this was different. Even her wedding had not been important enough to write for, but if this meant their mother could see her only son one last time, then so be it.

She wrote hastily and without flourish. There was much that needed to be done. Once she posted the letter, she would approach Henry and tell him the news. Whether he agreed mattered very little to her. He did not have to go with her for her to be on her way.

Xxx

By the time Henry arrived home, it was mid afternoon and Margaret was becoming impatient. She had already spoken to Edith and her aunt and informed them of her imminent departure. A note had been delivered to the law practice giving a short summary of what had occurred and now she only had to wait for him.

'Margaret,' he greeted her at the door. 'I am sorry I was kept behind; I had some business to see to. Let me have a servant pack some things and we can depart'.

'You're coming with me?' she asked in surprise.

'Of course,' he nodded. 'I spoke with my fellows and I am able to come for some time. I have been tasked with some business to attend to for a colleague and I would not allow you to go alone when you would arrive very late'.

'I see. Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Henry'.

'You are my wife, Margaret,' he smiled softly and patted her arm. 'It is my duty'.

Margaret was still recovering from her amazement long after Henry left to get his things together and they left for the station. He had never been unkind to her, but nor had he been so attentive at any moment of their marriage.

The familiar train ride north was spent mostly in silence. Margaret attempted to read for some time before she felt sleep taking her. Henry stripped off his coat and gave it to her to place between her head and the window so she could rest comfortably. Margaret's bewilderment at yet another kind act almost kept her from sleep as they pelted northwards.

Xxx

When they reached Milton, it was dark and had she not been there before, Margaret would have been more frightened of the shadowy station. On the almost empty platform, she easily caught the attention of a porter and bid them bring the luggage to her parent's address. She then led Henry out of the station and through the streets towards the house. It felt strange to be on his arm in Milton of all places. I almost felt wrong, as though she knew that it was another man's arm that she should be holding.

Dixon greeted them at the door with tired eyes. While Henry continued into the house to greet her father, Margaret stayed back with the servant.

'Dixon, please tell me, is my mother so very ill?'

Dixon sniffed. 'She's been ill since we moved here, Miss. She seemed to be getting better, but she's taken a turn in the last few days'.

'Then I feel as though I have done the right thing,' Margaret nodded. 'I have written to Fredrick'.

Dixon nodded solemnly. 'She's been saying his name sometimes when she's having more trouble. I know it would mean a lot to her if she saw him. It might even help her turn this around and get better again,' she added hopefully.

Margaret knew that Dixon loved her mother dearly and for this reason she was still hopeful, but Margaret was under no false hope that her mother would recover. As Dixon had said, Mrs Hale had not been well for some time.

Mr Hale emerged from the stairway to the upstairs at that moment and greeted her warmly. Margaret felt almost dead on her feet as she was led to her mother's bedside. Maria was thinner than when she had last seen her and the little colour her face had still held was gone. She looked gaunt and sickly.

'I am here, mama,' Margaret reached out and took her mother's hand. The hand was cool to the touch and Margaret could feel how weak her body was becoming.

Maria smiled softly and her eyes fluttered closed. 'My Margaret,' she breathed. 'I'm so glad you could come'.

'So am I, mama,' Margaret returned her smile sleepily.

That night, Margaret slept in the same room she had before, and a separate bedroom was prepared for Henry. Margaret was glad of this, as she did not fancy sharing her smaller room with anyone. Sleep found her quickly that night and she was up early the next morning to help Dixon in the kitchen.

After a good breakfast together, excluding Mrs Hale, Henry expressed a need to run some errands and Margaret announced that she was going to visit the Higgins'.

She packed a small basket with some groceries and made her way slowly over to the Higgins' residence. It pleased her to see that the streets had returned to their usual bustle. It appeared that most of the strikers had gone back to jobs and order had been restored.

Once she reached the house, she knocked cautiously and waited. To her surprise it was Nicholas that opened the door.

'Mrs Lennox,' he greeted with a nod. 'It's been a little while'.

'Oh Nicholas,' Margaret stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm. 'I am so sorry'.

'So am I, Miss,' he sniffed and smiled tightly. 'Come on in'.

She entered in behind him and embraced Mary. 'I am sorry I was not here'.

Nicholas laughed softly. 'It's not your fault, Miss. You have a life outside Milton'.

Margaret walked over to the table and placed the basket down for Mary to unpack. Nicholas joined her at the table and they both sat in silence for some time.

'So have things gone back to normal now, since the strike?'

Nicholas shrugged. 'Most things are getting there. Not me though. The master sent me packing'.

'So, you haven't been able to work?' Margaret asked anxiously.

Nicholas shook his head.

'Have you been everywhere? Have all the mills turned you away?'

'I know what you're going to say, Miss,' Nicholas sighed. 'Thornton's overseer told me where to go'.

'But Mr Thornton himself,' Margaret pressed, 'he could be reasonable if you talked to him. He is not quite as harsh as the others. Please try again, Nicholas. I know he will see reason'.

Nicholas watched her for a moment. 'If it were anyone else, I'd tell them where to go, but you Miss, Bess trusted you. I'll try one more time with Thornton if you really think he'll listen'.

'He will,' Margaret nodded. 'I'm sure of it'.

Xxx

John sighed heavily and scrubbed his hands down his face for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. Since the strike ended, they had been desperately trying to catch up, but things weren't picking up quickly enough. Business had always been stressful, but John prided himself on running a respectable one.

He picked up his coat from the back of his chair and made his way out towards the yard. Perhaps some fresh air was just what he needed to distract himself. Of course, time alone away from his work meant that his thoughts would turn to her. He would wonder how she was fairing and whether she thought of him at all.

'Excuse me, Master'.

He turned to see a man standing by the gateway. 'I need to talk to you, sir'.

'Higgins, isn't it?'

'That's right'.

'What do you want with me?'

'Just a moment of your time'.

'And why should I give you that?' he asked harshly. 'Don't think I don't know that you were a ringleader in the strike'.

'Please sir, I've got no other choice. I am a good worker, I swear'.

'Didn't you come here the other day?'

'Aye'.

'If you weren't successful the first time, then why come back?'

Nicholas sighed. 'I came because I was told you might have the heart to take me. Trust me, I wasn't coming back'.

'Who told you to come to me?'

Nicholas smirked then. 'Mrs Lennox did, matter of fact. Came to visit this morning, she did. Told me I had to come here and that you were different from the other masters. She thinks highly of you, I know that much'.

John's heart leapt into his throat and he swallowed thickly and before turning back towards the mill. 'Follow me'.

After his short meeting with Higgins, John sat in his office alone, unsure of what to do. He wanted to celebrate. Wanted to go to her and finally speak about the day of the strike. Whether he was allowed them or not, he needed answers. She plagued his mind constantly and he needed to know. If he looked a fool, then so be it. She was not the type to gossip if his feelings were indeed unrequited.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he hurried out the door once more, but with a destination in mind. He was going to break his silence. He had to break his silence.

**xxx**

**Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed another update. I'm going to work on the next one right now :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you all so much for your kind words and encouragements. I am very happy to give you another chapter so quickly. I just hope to keep his momentum going. I hope you enjoy this chapter and if you do, please feel free to let a review. I do love the feedback. x**

**xxx**

Margaret spent the rest of the day tending to her mother and otherwise keeping to herself. Nicholas had left to speak with Mr Thornton soon after their conversation and Margaret had stayed to help Mary for a while. She was a sweet girl and Margaret suggested that she could earn some extra money running errands for her parents. She knew that Dixon would be happy for the help as well.

By midday, Margaret was just opening her book to read when she heard a knock on the door and Dixon's bustling footsteps. She inclined her ear to try to discern who it might be, but she couldn't make out anything from her position in her room. Her curiosity got the better of her and she closed the book and walked quietly out into the hall. The sounds of Dixon puffing up the stairs were clear, but there was another set of footsteps behind her.

Margaret continued up the hallway as Dixon reached the top of the stairs, revealing Mr Thornton walking behind her. The butterflies went into a frenzy in her stomach and she swallowed thickly.

'Mr Thornton for you, Miss,' Dixon announced and then immediately turned to descend the stairs. 'I'll make some tea'.

There was complete silence between them for several seconds. It seemed that in that moment, neither one of them could find the bravery to speak.

'W-would you like to sit in the parlour?' Margaret asked softly.

Mr Thornton nodded.

She led the way through the doorway to the small sitting room. The tension in the air was palpable and Margaret's body was stiff as she took a seat on one of the lounges.

'I did not expect to see you again so soon,' Mr Thornton observed as he took a seat in an armchair nearby.

'I did not expect to be here,' she confessed.

'It seemed as though you were retreating when you left for London'.

Margaret sighed quietly and kept her eyes down on her hands that rested in her lap. 'Perhaps I was'.

'Why?'

She lifted her eyes to look at him. 'I had to,' she whispered.

'What you did was foolish,' he murmured, and Margaret recoiled slightly, 'but I am very grateful'.

'You do not need to be grateful,' Margaret shook her head softly. 'I asked you to go'.

'And you would've gone yourself if I didn't,' he growled.

Margaret did not say a word as Mr Thornton sighed.

'Forgive me, I have a temper as I'm sure you're aware,' he stood up from his chair and began pacing about the room.

'Mr Thornton, you seem troubled. What is bothering you so?'

He took a deep breath and turned to face her from his position across the room. 'I came here for a reason, Mrs Lennox…' he frowned and paused a for a moment to collect himself. 'I know that this will most likely cause me more misery than not, but I cannot go on without knowing…' he trailed off as the sounds of footsteps met their ears and Dixon arrived with a small tea tray.

Margaret thanked her for the tea and poured it with shaking hands. Dixon left again and Margaret was very aware of Mr Thornton's gaze on her face as she poured his cup. As she moved to hand him the cup, he reached out and took her gently by the wrist. His sudden proximity caused her stomach to flip and she inhaled sharply.

'I know that I am presumptuous, and I have no right to ask, but I will. Had things been different and we had met before Lennox…would you have…'

Margaret closed her eyes for a moment as John trailed off. 'What good would answering that question do for either of us?' she whispered.

'Margaret'—

'Mr Thornton,' she cut him off quietly, 'You are young and very eligible. Do not waste your time on impossible things. I have a husband, and whether I am happily married is unfortunately not the point. He is the man I pledged myself to and that cannot be undone, no matter what anyone may wish'.

Her words echoed in his head as silence overcame them. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her the true depth of his feelings. He wanted to run away with her and never look back. In all his years he had never felt so out of control. He felt like a foolish child.

The sound of the door opening again downstairs caused him to slowly release her hand. She could see the defeat on his face as he turned to the window.

'Margaret?' called a cheerful, male voice.

Margaret's stomach dropped.

'Margaret?' the voice called again as he ascended the stairs quickly.

'I am here,' she called back a little hoarsely.

Moments later, Henry emerged into the room, only to stop at the door. His eyes moved from Margaret to John and then back again.

'I'm sorry, am I interrupting?'

Margaret stepped forward. 'No, of course not. Henry, I'd like to introduce you to Mr Thornton. Mr Thornton, this is my husband Henry Lennox'.

She saw the recognition dawn on Mr Thornton's face and then gone was the vulnerability she had only seen moments before.

'Pleasure to meet you,' he recited, extending a hand.

'The pleasure is mine,' Henry smiled and whilst he still eyed the two of them with an unreadable expression, he continued to converse politely with Mr Thornton.

Margaret was silent as Henry asked some questions about Mr Thornton's work and the latter in turn answered everything as politely, but concisely as possible.

'Well then,' Henry nodded along with what Mr Thornton had just finished saying. 'I suppose we may have a chance to continue this conversation this evening'.

'This evening?' Mr Thornton queried with raised eyebrows.

'Yes, I've got some business with a Mr Latimer here in Milton and I have been invited to a gentlemen's dinner this evening. I was under the impression that masters were often in attendance?'

Mr Thornton nodded slowly. 'Yes, that is true, although we might be a bit unpolished for a London gentleman such as yourself'.

'Of course not,' Henry was still smiling, but his smile did look a little strained. 'Until this evening then'.

'Until this evening,' Mr Thornton nodded. His head turned back towards Margaret and she tried to show her apology with her eyes as he tilted his head to her. 'Good afternoon Mrs Lennox'.

Margaret bowed her head. 'Good afternoon Mr Thornton'.

After they had heard the door close behind him, Henry turned to Margaret, who was sipping from her cup of tea.

'What did he want?'

Margaret looked a little taken aback. 'Mr Thornton is a pupil of father's, and a very respectable man. He has helped my parents a great deal with settling here and he is a good friend. He often calls upon us here'.

'I'm surprised that a tradesman would value lessons in philosophy,' Henry scoffed as he picked up the spare teacup and poured himself a cup. 'Men who live for money don't often think of such things'.

'Then I suppose he isn't one of those men,' Margaret replied coolly. 'I am surprised at your accepting the invitation if you did not wish to mingle with tradesmen. This is after all an industrial town'.

Henry nodded. 'I confess, they would not be my first choice of company, but Mr Latimer insisted, and I thought I'd better oblige him'.

Xxx

Later that evening Mr Thornton sat alone in his office trying to bury himself in work. Margaret's words had continued to echo in his mind since she had uttered them. She could never be his, which he already knew, and yet it cut deeper every time he heard it in his mind.

The evening had been uneventful and dull as far as John was concerned. He heard the same complaints from the other masters and had the same responses. Mr Lennox had been a diverting addition for some of them as his ignorance when it came to business was quite remarkable. John would have been amused too, had it not been for the overwhelming feelings of jealously that overcame him when he beheld that man. That man who had everything he wanted and yet undervalued what he had.

Still, Mr Lennox had not been altogether unpleasant company, and took it upon himself to befriend most of the men. If Mr Thornton had not known about Margaret, he would perhaps even find the man tolerable.

Xxx

The days that followed were quiet ones. Henry spent most of his time away from the house as was the usual. Mary would come and go regularly to fetch things and help Dixon. Margaret herself spent some time in the kitchen with Dixon. Despite never needing to do anything of the sort in London, she enjoyed having the knowledge of such things. It helped her feel useful and not quite so dependent on others to survive.

Fanny Thornton had sent a note for Margaret on their third day in Milton to announce her engagement to a Mr Watson. Margaret had no idea that Fanny had ever even met such a man, but she was pleased for her, nonetheless. Fanny was sweet when she wanted to be, but Margaret had long seen how spoilt and shallow she really could be. In marrying Watson, who was undoubtedly fabulously wealthy, Fanny would be able to have all the things that Mr Thornton was too sensible to allow her.

When Margaret had first read the note, she had to laugh a little. Fanny had not bothered to write a word to Margaret since the riot and yet she knew to send word of her impending marriage immediately. Still, Margaret wished her well. A loveless marriage was something that she would not wish on anyone.

She did not have direct contact with Fanny until two weeks later, when Margaret ran into her whilst shopping for fabric. The young blonde woman shrieked excitedly and showed Margaret her enormous ring. Mr Watson was an older, gentlemanly man, if not a little plain, but Fanny assured Margaret of his great wealth.

A week after that, Henry left for London again and Margaret felt as though a weight had been lifted. Of course, she still avoided Mr Thornton when possible and her mother was still ill, but there was still freedom to be had.

It pleased her that Mr Thornton continued his lessons with her father, and she would make herself as scarce as possible during these times to prevent his discomfort. This was relatively successful until one evening when Margaret was curled up in the parlour reading and her father and Mr Thornton came to join her.

'Oh no, please don't trouble yourself,' Mr Hale assured her as Margaret made to gather her things, 'I was hoping that you might join us in our discussion'.

'Oh?'

'Yes,' Mr Hale nodded enthusiastically and turned to Mr Thornton. 'Margaret has been reading so much recently that I believe she'd make a better teacher than I would at this point'.

Mr Thornton smiled, and Margaret blushed. 'Oh no father, you are exaggerating. I have merely a had a lot of time to myself with little else to do'.

'Nonsense,' Mr Hale proclaimed as he gestured for John to take a seat. 'Let me just fetch that volume I was talking about and we can continue'.

Without another word he left the two of them sitting in silence. Margaret continued to read for a moment, but her eyes continued to flicker to Mr Thornton, who was watching the fire intently.

'I am sorry if we are disturbing you,' he spoke up after some time. 'Your father was adamant we include you'.

Margaret smiled softly more to herself than anything. 'It is quite alright, Mr Thornton. As you can see, I wasn't doing anything important'.

'Perhaps he will make a scholar out of you yet,' he replied in a serious tone, but Margaret could see the smirk on his lips.

'That I cannot imagine,' she mirrored his smile.

Their eyes locked again from across the room and Margaret realised after some time that neither of them was looking away. It wasn't until the sounds of her father returning reached her ears that she looked away, her cheeks burning.

Even as Mr Hale distracted them both with talks of philosophy and history, Margaret could not help but think of their exchange with shame. No married woman should behave so familiarly with a man who wasn't her husband. Still, the conversation was interesting, and Margaret participated happily until Dixon came with a request from her mother to see her.

Mrs Hale was not getting any better. The colour was gone from her handsome face and her breathing was becoming more laboured than ever. Margaret knew that her mother was not long for the world and she only hoped that Fredrick had gotten her letter and might visit before it was too late.

Xxx

Another week passed with more deterioration to Mrs Hale's condition. Margaret feared that she would leave them without seeing Fredrick or even hearing back from him. It wasn't until night fell and Margaret was sitting in the kitchen with a hot cup of tea, that there was a quiet knock at the door. Margaret shared a confused look with Dixon before crossing to the door and carefully opening it.

Before her stood the shadowy figure of a man. She could not see much of him, other than the fact that he was dressed plainly with a hat darkening his facial features further.

'Is Mr Hale in?' he asked, and Margaret's heart leapt in her chest.

'Fred!' she gasped and pulled him inside. He embraced her warmly, both feeling the racing heart of the other. No sooner had they pulled apart when Mr Hale entered to enquire about the door.

The reunions were emotional, to say the least. Mr Hale wept tears of joy, while even in her weakened state, Mrs Hale positively sobbed. Margaret watched on happily as for the first time in years her family was whole again.

**xxx**

**So there we are. Things are starting to get a little more complicated. I am already working on the next one, so hopefully the wait won't be very long :) Thanks again for your support!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Here we are. Thank you all so much for your continued love and support for this story. I really must be getting on with my uni work, but I cannot seem to step away from this. I hope you all enjoy and stay safe. I'm glad I can provide some sort of entertainment for others in this time, not just myself :)**

**xxx**

It wasn't until the following morning that Margaret and Fredrick finally had some time to talk alone. Mr Hale was busy in his study writing messages to excuse himself from teaching for the day and Mrs Hale had yet to awaken when the siblings found their way to the parlour.

'I still cannot believe that my little sister is married,' Fredrick exclaimed, 'I am sorry that I could not be there'.

'No one could expect you to be,' Margaret assured him. 'It was very small anyway. Edith wanted it to be so much grander, but I didn't want that'.

'Of course you didn't,' Fred smiled. 'You've never shared her love for extravagance. I'm sure it was just as you needed'.

Margaret returned his smile with a nod.

'And this Mr Lennox. Good chap?'

Margaret's smile stayed, but a little of the humour left it. 'Yes, he's a good man'.

'Is that it?' Fred asked incredulously. 'The Margaret I remember would never dream of marrying a man who was merely good'.

Margaret laughed then. 'The Margaret you remember had no thoughts of marriage'.

'So, what changed?'

Margaret paused for a moment to glance towards the doorway. She did not want her parents to hear what she would say. 'I did not want mother and father to worry about me. When Henry approached me, I thought I'd have as good a chance at happiness with him as I would with any other. Oh Fred, I've been such a fool'.

'Oh Margaret,' he moved over to sit beside her and took her hand in his. 'I had always hoped you were living happily since I learnt of your marriage'.

'I wasn't happy, but I could cope. That all changed when I came to Milton,' she explained as tears welled in her eyes. 'If I could change it, I would'.

'Then why not come away to Spain?' Fredrick asked excitedly. 'Why not come and stay with Dolores and me? Oh Margaret, you would love her. She is perfect in every way'.

Margaret smiled sadly and shook her head. 'I cannot run away, Fred. Henry and I may not love one another like you and Dolores, but he is not a cruel man. He does not deserve that'.

'And yet you do not deserve this misery,' Fred sighed. 'But at least you can be here in Milton with mother and father. Henry is kind to allow you that grace'.

'He is,' she agreed, 'and yet I left Milton some weeks ago with little intention of returning. I am only here because father asked it of me'.

'Is it so bad here? I know it's not Helstone, but surely it's not so awful'.

'It isn't,' Margaret shook her head. 'It is dirty and there is a lot of death and suffering, and yet it is so much more agreeable than London, or even Helstone at times. I have met people here that have changed my view of the world. They have changed my view on a lot of things'.

'And it was here that you truly began to regret your marriage?'

'Yes,' Margaret answered instantly. 'I fear your judgement Fred, but I cannot keep my silence. The only other person I have told of this is gone forever and I need to speak of it to someone'.

'Then do,' he gestured for her to continue, 'Such a burden must be important'.

Margaret took a deep breath and talked with her eyes fixed on the floor. 'There is a man here in Milton. A very respectable cotton manufacturer and pupil of fathers. I care for him a great deal and I believe he cares for me. He is intelligent and handsome and the most eligible gentleman…'

'Margaret,' Fred breathed. 'I cannot begin to imagine'—

'Excuse me,' a voice called from the entrance and the two jumped as Dixon made her presence known. 'Miss Margaret, Mr Thornton is at the door. I did not wish to disturb the master, but I don't know whether to send him away'.

'Thank you, Dixon, I will go and speak to him,' Margaret responded calmly, but her heart was in her throat.

Dixon hurried away in the direction of their mother's room and Margaret turned to Fredrick. 'I must go and turn him away. No one can know that you are here'.

'Who is he?' Fredrick asked with interest.

'Mr Thornton is the master of Marlborough mills and a pupil of father's,' Margaret replied softly and turned to go, leaving Fredrick to put the pieces together.

She hurried down the stairs, heart racing in anticipation. She would have to turn him away but hoped that he would understand. As she approached the door, she felt like a giddy child at the thought of seeing him. It was such a strange feeling that she almost couldn't continue.

'Mrs Lennox,' he greeted as she opened the door.

'Good morning, Mr Thornton,' she greeted softly. 'I'm afraid father is indisposed today. He is writing notes to excuse his pupils as we speak'.

'Is he ill?'

'No, he is well. We just…' she trailed off when she noticed his eyes on the luggage in the hall behind her.

'Forgive me, I was not aware that you had company'.

'Of sorts. Please do not feel that you are not welcome. Indeed, you are most welcome, I'm sure father would agree'.

Mr Thornton smiled a little at that. 'No matter, I just came to return some books to your father and to bring this for your mother'.

Margaret returned his smile with a soft one of her own. 'Of course,' she carefully took the books from him and accidentally brushed her fingers across his as he passed her the basket of fruit. The two of them froze for a moment and Margaret was sure the colour had deepened on her already rosy cheeks. 'Thank you, Mr Thornton'.

'My pleasure,' he murmured in response. 'I will be sure to send your father a note regarding our lessons'.

'Yes,' Margaret nodded. 'Thank you again for your kindness'.

At that moment, Mary returned to the house and Margaret quickly handed her the things to take inside. This seemed enough to break the spell between them, and Mr Thornton stepped back a little.

'Good day, Mrs Lennox'.

'Good day, Mr Thornton,' she nodded and retreated inside, regretfully shutting the door between them.

Xxx

The next few days were spent reliving old memories and enjoying time together. As each day ended, Mrs Hale grew weaker. Her spirits had lifted considerably in Fredrick's presence, but Margaret knew it was only temporary.

Mr Hale seemed to be in denial of the seriousness of his wife's condition. Perhaps it was because he blamed himself for her ill health. It was true that her delicate constitution was no suited for the north, but Margaret did not want her father to live with the guilt of it.

On the final day, Margaret and Fredrick sat on either side of the bed holding their mother's hands. Margaret was calm as the breaths became slower and slower, but Fredrick was sobbing. Even with his added years and experiences, he was unprepared for the day she would leave them. Margaret, on the other hand had seen the decline of their mother's health and had known for some time that this day was not so far away. The tears still came as they mourned quietly, but Margaret felt more gladness that their mother was at peace.

Mr Hale came into the room some time later and sat defeated on the end of the bed. Dixon was shaking quietly in the corner and for some time no one said much at all. Margaret took time to write to her aunt, cousin and Henry, informing them of her mother's passing. Her tears marked the paper as she wrote, but she carried on. As she organised her papers, she came across the unanswered letter that Edith had sent, requesting that Margaret come to London for the Great Exhibition. She knew that her mother had wished for her to go, but Margaret had told her that by no means was she in a hurry to return to London.

It was decided that the funeral would be in two days and that Fredrick would leave soon after. Margaret feared for Fredrick attending the funeral, but as they had been so secretive, she had high hopes that he would leave without anyone ever realising he'd been there.

Yet the following afternoon it seemed that these hopes were lost, as Dixon reported that she had been recognised by a man who knew the family history. Fredrick was loath to leave before the funeral, but Margaret insisted. Attending the funeral would undoubtedly lead to Fredrick's detainment and likely hanging. No, Fredrick would leave that night.

Xxx

The night air was chilly as Margaret quietly led Fredrick through the streets of Milton. They spoke a little to one another but did not want to draw the attention of any prying eyes. Once they reached the platform that Fredrick would be leaving from, they stopped and stood for a few moments in silence.

'Well, I guess this will be goodbye for a while at least,' Fredrick sighed. 'I'm sorry we didn't get to finish that conversation'.

Margaret smiled. 'It's alright, Fred. You need to go back to your lovely wife'.

'You could still come with me,' he grinned.

'No, but I will miss you,' she laughed and pulled him in for one last embrace. As she looked out across the darkened platform, she noticed a figure in the darkness and her blood ran cold as she was met with the cold eyes of Mr Thornton.

She gasped, causing Fredrick to turn to look as well. Mr Thornton moved away out of sight and Margaret realised what he must have thought was happening.

'Goodness,' she breathed.

'Tell him,' Fredrick nodded to her. 'You tell him once I'm gone. I know you trust him'.

'I'—

'Hale?!' a voice called out from further down the platform. 'It is you, isn't it?'

'What?' Fredrick replied in confusion. 'No, I'm not a Hale'.

'I knew it was you!' the man insisted as he walked directly up to Fredrick. 'What are you doing hiding out here?'

'I'm not Hale,' Fredrick repeated calmly.

'Yes, you are,' the man leapt out at Fredrick and the two fought for a few moments before Fredrick managed to push him off, unfortunately causing the drunkard to fall down the stairs.

Fredrick made to go after him, but Margaret stopped him. 'Go Fred. Go now. This is your only chance'.

'I love you, Margaret,' Fredrick grabbed her face and kissed her on the forehead. 'Take care'.

'I love you too, Fred,' she cried as she hurried him into a compartment. 'Now go'.

Xxx

The morning of the funeral found Margaret sitting with her father and Dixon in the church. There were only a handful of people in attendance, including Nicholas and Mary, Mr Bell and Mr Thornton. Had Margaret not seen him there, she was sure she would have known he was there from the heated gaze that burned into the back of her head.

She had Fredrick's permission to tell him, and yet she thought that perhaps things would be better if he despised her. Perhaps moving on would be easier if she knew he didn't care. Still, she resigned to not saying a word unless it was first said to her. They did, after all, move in very different circles most of the time. Her job of avoiding him only became easier when her father told her Mr Thornton had decided to stop his lessons for the time being. She was saddened for her father, but she knew the true reasoning behind his cancelling.

After spending some time packing up her mother's things, Margaret was interrupted by an unexpected call from Mrs Thornton. The older woman waited until Dixon left the room before speaking.

'Your mother made me promise to watch over you, Mrs Lennox. I am here to fulfil that promise'.

'Oh?'

'You must know that there has been talk about your behaviour, both towards my son and your more recent actions'.

'I am aware of some gossip, but I am sorry if Mr Thornton has been brought into any of it,' Margaret replied softly. 'I assure you; things are not as they seem'.

'Then enlighten me,' Mrs Thornton asked with hard eyes.

'The gentleman that they saw me with was not a lover, or any sort of romantic interest. I cannot speak of his identity, but you must believe me when I say that I am innocent'.

'And what of my son?'

'Mr Thornton?'

'Yes, what have you to say for his situation'.

'I do not know what situation you are referring to, Mrs Thornton'.

'Are you in love with my son?' she asked bluntly.

Margaret felt like the wind had been thrust forcefully from her lungs. 'I am a married woman, Mrs Thornton. While I cannot deny that I care for your son, I am not an unfaithful woman, and nor would I drag your son's name through the dirt by attempting such association'.

Mrs Thornton sat quietly for a moment. 'I appreciate your candour Mrs Lennox, and I only hope you will continue to abide by your own rules. My son is not someone to be toyed with'.

'I would never do such a thing,' Margaret defended. 'I wish your son every happiness in his life and in his future marriage'.

'And do you return to London soon?'

Margaret bit back a smile at the woman's not so subtle question. 'I will stay here in Milton for some time longer until my father is in a better position to be left alone, then I will return to London'.

Mrs Thornton sighed and reached beside her into her small bag and retrieved a letter. 'Fanny bid me bring this to you if I were to come across you in the streets. They are to be wed next week, and she has of course invited you and your father'.

'Of course, we would love to come,' Margaret beamed as she took the paper. 'It will be nice to see some joy in these hard times'.

'Indeed,' Mrs Thornton agreed, but still watched Margaret with disapproving eyes.

**xxx**

**So, there we are. Please let me know what you think. I'm already working on the next parts, but any feedback is greatly appreciated. As you can see, we're building up to some more big events. Due to this, not everything with get full attention next chapter, but will be mentioned in passing. I just don't think it would be very entertaining for anyone if I wrote hundreds of words about things that are inconsequential in the long run. I hope everyone has had a safe and Happy Easter or has a safe and Happy Easter if you haven't had it yet due to time zones and things. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Guess who's back, back again! In all seriousness though, I am so grateful for all of your kind words. This chapter is quite a lot packed in together as you'll find, but I hope you still enjoy it. This story is still likely to have a good handful of chapters to go. I have written some, but I haven't written to the end just yet. **

**For those of you who keep enquiring about Henry, I'm afraid you're just going to have to wait and see. I've already written some bits that are a little more Henry focused and they will be in the next chapters, don't worry. **

**Enjoy!**

**xxx**

The wedding of Fanny Thornton was exactly what Margaret had expected it to be. Fanny was an extravagant bride and Watson was beaming with his usual cheer. The bells rang to announce the marriage of the happy couple and as everyone poured out of the church, Margaret could not help but notice the presence of Anne Latimer clinging to Mr Thornton's arm. She was a very pretty lady and Margaret could see his mother approving of her greatly, and yet Margaret burned with jealousy at the sight of them.

She had seen very little of Mr Thornton since the funeral, only spotting him in the streets from time to time. She understood that he would be avoiding her, even more so after the policeman had called upon her and she had lied to him. Still, Mr Thornton had not disproved her lie by speaking up, so she felt that deep down he must still care for her to some capacity.

The next few weeks passed without anything of note occurring aside from the deaths of Boucher and his wife. Nicholas had generously taken in the children and Margaret busied herself with helping Mary occupy them. Seven children were after all a big responsibility for only one person while Nicholas was working.

Nicholas himself was reportedly doing a fantastic job at Marlborough mills and he happily told Margaret about his conversations with Mr Thornton. It seemed that against his own better judgement, Mr Thornton was beginning to see the merit in maintaining good relationships with his employees.

Mr Bell came back to Milton on some business the next week and invited Mr Hale to go with him to Oxford for a visit. Mr Hale was apprehensive to leave, but Margaret assured him that she could keep house until he returned and then she would most likely return to London herself in the week following. With her reassurance and the insistence of Mr Bell, Mr Hale left for Oxford in high spirits.

Scarcely days later when the afternoon sun was beginning to relent to darkness, Margaret saw the arrival of Mr Bell from the upstairs window, but her father was not present. Her immediate confusion was replaced with immediate shock as Mr Bell came into the house and announced that Mr Hale had passed away peacefully in his sleep.

Margaret was in too much shock to grieve and Mr Bell insisted on staying with her until Henry arrived at the very least. In that moment Margaret was lost. She wanted someone to go to, someone to comfort her. She longed for Fredrick.

The next day she and Dixon set about organising the things that were to go to London and the things that were to be auctioned off. After several hours of this, Margaret was exceedingly glad that her parents lived simple lives. Their possessions were few and it made things a lot easier for Margaret to sort through. The truth of everything hit her when she entered into her father's study and began to sort through the contents. Her father was not a secretive man by any means, but Margaret did find several surprises. One such item was a letter written by her mother to her father. It was dated before their marriage and Margaret smiled as she read her mother's pretty words. Oh, how they had loved each other.

The tears had never really stopped since Margaret had discovered that letter among others and she was barely containing herself when Henry arrived at the house. He took her into his arms and held her there for a moment in a gesture that Margaret had not expected. She cautiously brought her arms up and held onto him there.

'I'm so sorry, Margaret,' he murmured. 'You have seen so much pain and suffering here. I shall be glad to take you away from it all'.

There was the other thing that Margaret dreaded. With both of her parents gone she would have little reason to come to Milton. She would likely never see her friends again nor Mr Thornton.

'It's not so bad here, Henry,' she said as she extricated herself from his embrace. 'Of course, it is not quite so lively and friendly as London, nor as pretty as Helstone, but it does have its merits'.

Henry smiled. 'I feel as though you may find such merit anywhere if you tried hard enough'.

That evening Mr Bell spent one last meal with them before he announced his leaving to attend to some business. Margaret spent much of the evening tossing and turning in her bed. She did not wish to sleep, for it would mean wasting precious hours of the time she still had in Milton. Still sleep found her and she was awoken the next morning to the sound of Dixon's raised voice. Hurrying to make herself presentable, she rushed down into the kitchen to see Nicholas sitting at the table looking grumpy, a pair of muddy boots by the door.

'Nicholas,' she greeted, 'what brings you here so early?'

Nicholas rose from his chair immediately and crossed the room to stand in front of her. 'I heard word about your father. I'm so sorry, Margaret'.

'Thank you,' Margaret smiled softly. 'I'm afraid it hasn't quite sunk in properly at this point'.

'So, you'll be leaving Milton then, I reckon?'

Margaret nodded. 'Yes. I cannot justify staying here, no matter how much I may wish to'.

'I reckon there'll be some mourning in your absence'.

'Not many I can imagine,' Margaret laughed quietly. 'I will miss you, Nicholas, and Mary. You have been very good to me'.

'Not as good as you have to us, Miss,' he smiled. 'Anyway, I won't keep you. I have to be getting to work myself'.

'How is your work?' Margaret asked as she walked him to the door.

Nicholas gave her another sly smile. 'Thornton treats me well. We've been getting along very well, he and I. Perhaps you were right about him, Miss, though I doubt he would've hired me if I hadn't have said you recommended him'.

'I will see you again before we leave,' Margaret said earnestly as he was putting his boots back on, 'take care, Nicholas'.

'Aye, you too Miss'.

Xxx

That afternoon while Henry was out tending to some errands, Margaret sat quietly in the parlour. She was going through the last of her father's books that hadn't been sorted. A smile came to her face as she read the titles of volume upon volume of her father's passions. She came across her father's edition of Plato and she paused, remembering how her father and Mr Thornton had discussed it often. She made a note to put it aside for him.

Only moments later her solitude was interrupted by Dixon, announcing the entrance of the very man she had just been thinking of. He hurried up the last few stairs and Dixon left them to themselves.

'Mr Thornton,' Margaret stood up and placed the book she had been holding back onto the table.

'Mrs Lennox,' he greeted in a slightly breathless voice. Clearly he had made his way there in a hurry. 'Forgive me, I've only just heard. Mr Hale…'

'Yes,' Margaret replied quietly as she fought back against the tears that threatened to fall.

Mr Thornton hurried forward, only to stop just short of her. 'Margaret'—

'Mr Thornton,' she cut him off softly. 'As you may know, I will not be in Milton for much longer and I can only imagine what you must think of me at this moment. I'm certain that you are confused and rightfully so, but I would like to enlighten you if you'd allow me?'

'Of course,' he breathed.

Margaret took a deep breath and looked up once more into those piercing eyes. 'I have a brother, Mr Thornton. Due to unfortunate circumstances he cannot move about freely without fear of the law catching up to him. When my mother was dying, I wrote to him and he came to be with our mother as she passed'.

Mr Thornton frowned for a moment. 'The man with you that night'—

'My brother, Fredrick,' she whispered.

'Margaret'—

'Please,' she cut across him again. 'I only tell you this because it is very likely that after tomorrow, we will not meet again. I cannot go away knowing that you think ill of me'.

'I could never think ill of you,' he replied quietly.

The sound of creaking wood drew their attention as Henry came up the hallway and around the door. He stopped at the sight of them, but his facial expression did not indicate that he'd overheard their conversation. His face was passive at first as he entered and then he smiled politely as he extended a hand.

'Mr Thornton, it is a pleasure to see you again,' he greeted.

Mr Thornton took his offered hand in a firm handshake. 'Mr Lennox. I just heard the news of Mr Hale's passing and came to offer my condolences. He was an excellent man and a good friend'.

Margaret smiled softly at this and Henry nodded. 'Indeed, he was'.

'We will likely leave tomorrow,' Margaret spoke directly to John, her eyes meeting his. 'Please tell your mother and sister that I will call tomorrow morning to say goodbye, if that would be convenient?'

'Of course,' Mr Thornton nodded. 'I shall leave you to your preparations'.

He left as abruptly as he arrived, leaving Margaret and Henry standing in silence for several moments. He turned to her then as she resumed her sorting.

'I am sorry that you cannot stay, Margaret'.

Margaret paused her work and gave him a puzzled look.

'I know that there are those here whose company you cherish. Nicholas, Mary, Mr Thornton. I am sorry that they will be so far away from you'.

Margaret's face softened, but there was weariness behind her eyes. 'Perhaps it is best to turn the page,' she cleared her throat delicately, 'they are fine people, but I am not part of their world'.

Margaret's manner did not go unmissed by Henry. As unfamiliar as they were in some ways, he knew her well enough to dislike seeing her in such a state of impassiveness. The Margaret he knew before they married had been strong, lively, and perhaps a little brash at times. The woman he saw before him now was a shell of the creature he had met those years ago.

As he attempted to help her in her tasks, he had to stop and wonder whether he had done this. He knew that his work and lifestyle would mean some isolation for her, but Margaret had always seemed to enjoy her own company and would never express any unhappiness when they were together. He wondered now how much had been a mask and how much he did not know.

Xxx

The next day saw Margaret walking the chilly streets of Milton. Henry had gone to make some last-minute arrangements and had promised to meet her at the Thornton's while Dixon was to stay and organise the auction for the rest of her parents less sentimental possessions.

Having already seen Nicholas and Mary briefly and given Nicholas a gift of as much money as she could afford to give for the children, she made her way to her last stop. As she walked the familiar path, her father's Plato in hand, she felt a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold morning air.

The fear gripped her that Mr Thornton may not be available while she said goodbye to his mother and sister. She could leave Milton without seeing him again and that thought terrified her. If he was only to be a memory to her, she needed time to memorise every detail of him. His handsome face and icy eyes, his tall form and noble profile. More than that, she wanted to remember the sound of his voice and that way it warmed her chest.

As she hurried through the yard towards the house, she couldn't help but notice how quiet it was. There were still the sounds of machinery and workers, but it was not so crowded and lively.

She knocked quietly on the door and was surprised when it was opened immediately. The servant led her straight up the stairs to the parlour where she saw Fanny and Mrs Thornton waiting.

'I am so sorry that you're leaving,' Fanny burst out at once. 'Such sad business'.

'Yes,' Margaret agreed. 'I am sad to be going'.

'But at least you'll be going home to London,' Fanny swooned. 'I'm sure you'll have plenty to distract yourself with there'.

'I'm sure Mrs Lennox will find suitable diversion,' said Mrs Thornton in a clear effort to stop her daughter from speaking any further. 'After all, London is your home'.

'Mrs Thornton,' Margaret addressed her quietly. 'I want to thank you for what you said to me when we last spoke. I know that you acted out of care and kindness, and I appreciate that you honoured my mother's wishes'.

Mrs Thornton looked a little taken aback but nodded stiffly with a slight smile. The door to the parlour opened once more and Mr Thornton entered, looking around a little worriedly until his eyes fell upon Margaret. Fanny said one last goodbye to Margaret and excused herself. Mrs Thornton exchanged a look with her son before she moved to the table to resume her sewing.

'I brought you this,' Margaret held out the book and Mr Thornton carefully took it, a fond smile passing over his face. 'I remember you and father having many discussions about it, so I thought that perhaps you might like it'.

'I shall treasure it,' he replied in a soft voice that barely hid the emotion he was holding back. 'So, when do you depart?'

'Soon. Henry said he will come to here when everything is ready. It will not be long'.

For a few moments the only sound that could be heard was the movement of material as Mrs Thornton sewed. Margaret looked up into the eyes already watching her and she saw there once more was the longing she too felt so acutely. She managed a sad smile and he looked as thought he was about to speak again but thought the better of it as the door to the room opened again and the same servant arrived to announce that her cab was waiting.

She hastily said her goodbyes to Mrs Thornton and Mr Thornton and hurried to follow the servant, feeling her courage disappear. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she hastily brushed it off as she descended the stairs and made her way towards the door. Henry emerged from the cab as she was just about out of the door and gestured for her to hurry.

'Come, my dear, it is getting colder'.

Margaret heeded his words and quickly exited the house, descending the final stairs to the yard with a flourish of her skirts. Henry offered her his hand and as she climbed into the cab, she dared to take one last look back towards the house. Mr Thornton stood on the threshold, where only a few weeks previous, she had come to his rescue. Their eyes locked for a second and then she was inside the cab. Henry said a hasty goodbye to Mr Thornton and thanked him for his kindness to Margaret and her family. Margaret did not hear the whole conversation but caught snippets of Mr Thornton's voice.

Once Henry joined her in the cab, the driver carried on forward and out of the mill yard. Margaret blinked rapidly and tried her best to hold back the tears that were welling in her eyes. Without a word, Henry handed her a clean handkerchief and she took it gratefully as they continued their journey towards the train station and then out of Milton.

**xxx**

**And away we go. Now, I will warn you ahead of time, the next chapters may contain quite a lot of angst as judging from my previous stories, it seems to be my speciality. There will also be some very serious themes and I will be putting warnings where necessary. The North and South we all know and love is certainly not all unicorns and rainbows, so you should be well prepared for some darkness. Thanks for your support, guys! Until next time. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello again! Now first and foremost, I have to put a warning here for what is to come in the next chapter after this one. I will be changing the rating of this story to at least a T after I publish it for reasons that you will understand. In the meantime, please enjoy this chapter, but we aware that if you are sensitive to certain subjects, it is best that you stop reading after this chapter or before if it's easier. Love to you all and enjoy! **

**xxx**

The months passed slowly, each more difficult than the next. Mr Thornton was tired, and he knew that despite his best efforts, they would not hold out much longer. They could not fill the orders fast enough and he was losing money every day. His only solace was in knowing that with Fanny gone, he need only worry about himself and his mother. They lived frugally, sparing as many expenses as was possible.

Late that evening he sat in his office going over the papers strewn about his desk. His eyes were growing heavy and his resolve was weakening. Finally, deciding to give up for the evening, he rose from his chair and pulled on his coat, heading back to the house for the night.

He made his way up the stairs and into the study where he spent very little time anymore. His eyes fell up a book still resting where he had last left it on the desk, and he picked it up gently. The old, but well-kept edition of Plato was a warm reminder of his dear friend and a cold reminder of the woman he could never have. He longed to know how she was and what she was doing. No word had reached his ears since her departure, but then again, he never expected it to.

'You need to rest'.

He looked up to see his mother quietly watching him from the doorway. He smiled softly and sighed, carefully placing the book back on the desk.

'I've hardly the time for rest, mother'.

'You must,' she came forward and took his face in her hands. 'I will not see you worked into the ground, John'.

'Soon there'll be no work, and my hands will be idle. I must do what I can while there is still time'.

'The mill will not stay open any longer at all if you work yourself to death,' Mrs Thornton growled. 'You need to rest'.

John looked up into the beseeching eyes of his mother. 'I will for your sake, mother. Things are going to get much worse, but as long as we stand together, we should survive I think'.

'Of course, we will,' she said with her chin raised. 'Although I fear for your spirits. You've not been the same since _she_ left Milton'.

John sighed. 'I don't know what you want me to say, mother. I love her more than I ever have before and she is further from my reach'.

'I can't stand her,' Mrs Thornton hissed, 'but only because of what she's done to you'.

'She did not ask for me to love her,' John replied softly. 'I've done that to myself. How many young ladies have passed through town, and yet none of them were interesting?'

Mrs Thornton sighed then. 'To bed with you now, I cannot stand to discuss this further'.

Xxx

Margaret sat alone in her study, looking over the figures in front of her. In the months that had followed their leaving Milton, a great many things had occurred. Firstly, Mr Bell had proposed a journey to Helstone, which she had gratefully accepted. Whilst there they had discussed a great many things and Margaret had found herself strangely indifferent to the place. She was indeed much changed since her childhood and perhaps even more since she made that walk to the church to marry Henry.

Mr Bell had listened to her thoughts and been very helpful in his answers. She felt inclined to discuss just about anything with him and that she did. When the topic of Marlborough Mills and the Thornton's came up, Mr Bell was far too perceptive not to notice her change in manner.

'Henry was never meant to be the man beside you, was he?' he asked gently.

Margaret's confusion caused him to elaborate further and Margaret could not believe how much he already knew. He had seen every interaction, it seemed, and guessed feelings when so many others had not. Mr Bell was well aware of her feelings and he had a fair understanding of Mr Thornton's.

After some time, the conversation had shifted, and Margaret learned that Mr Bell was not well and intended to leave her his entire fortune. Naturally she objected, but he would not have it. He insisted that while he'd save enough to live out the rest of his time, she could put to much better use the fortune he had accumulated.

As it turned out, some money ended up wasted as Henry and Margaret tried and failed to use it to help Fredrick. Henry had a good reputation and powerful allies, but even his reach could not sway the hands of the powers in charge.

Henry had apologised to her over and over, claiming that he needed to give her something. His determination led only to more hours of loneliness for Margaret. Whilst she appreciated his passion, she already knew that they could not do more. She would visit Fredrick in Spain whenever she could and that would be the extent of their connection.

While this was not the ideal situation, she felt some joy in knowing that she would get to see him and Dolores often enough, and they would show her the beauties of a foreign land. Such diversions from London life were certainly not unwelcome.

As Margaret looked down at the papers detailing her newfound wealth and properties, her eyes fell on a familiar name. She hurriedly picked up the paper and skimmed over the writing. It was the contractual agreement for tenancy of Marlborough mills and scrawled at the bottom was the signature of who she could only guess was Mr Thornton. The document detailed the movement of the property ownership from Mr Bell to herself and had been dated only the past month. It sent Margaret's stomach into butterflies to imagine Mr Thornton hearing of her inheritance. It also gave her hope that their parting may not be quite so final as she'd thought.

She had not heard much from Milton in the months since her departure, but she had not expected to receive letters or anything of the like. Nicholas was not a writing man and she knew that Mary was still learning to read herself. Aside from them, she hardly expected to receive correspondence from Fanny, and it would inappropriate to exchange letters with Mr Thornton. She was sure that he would be much too busy for such a thing anyway.

Xxx

There was something strange in Henry's manner that evening when they sat down to their evening meal. He seemed to be constantly thinking on something and Margaret was a little confused at his sudden step back. They had been making such great progress with their relationship and she truly was beginning to see him as a dear friend. Of course, they still showed no indication of being in love with one another, but neither seemed to desire it.

'Henry,' she spoke after some time of silence, 'are you going to tell me what that matter is? You've not been so quiet for some weeks'.

'I'm sorry, Margaret,' he replied with a forced smile. 'I have been thinking on some things of late and I must beg your forgiveness'.

Margaret frowned. 'Whatever for?'

Henry sighed and leant back in his chair. 'You never wanted this, any of it, and I'm a selfish man for marrying you'.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean that I know I'm not a good husband. I never dreamed of being one. I've been dealing with my own selfish struggle for much of my life and I just thought if I were to marry, then perhaps it would solve things'.

'Henry, I am completely lost'.

'I want to set you free, Margaret. This marriage came about for the wrong reasons, and I've been doing everything in my power to change it'.

'Is that what you've been doing these days? I thought you were still trying to help Fredrick?'

Henry sighed again. 'No Margaret, I'm a good lawyer, but I know my limits. I know that there's nothing more I can do on that front'.

'You would really have this marriage dissolved?' she asked curiously.

'In a heartbeat,' he replied seriously. 'I've done you wrong. No gentle woman deserves a lonely life like this, but I cannot be your husband. And so, I will try everything I can to change this'.

'Henry, you forget that I made the decision to accept you. We are married and that cannot be changed'.

'I don't know why. I never expected you to agree and now I'm certain you regret it. I understand your heart does not belong to me, and mine does not belong to you'.

'Henry'—

'I heard you speak to Mr Thornton. Such tenderness was in your voice that I have never heard before. I knew in that moment what I had done'.

'I do not understand you,' she cried.

Henry fixed her with an incredulous look. 'If we had not married and you had gone with your parents to Milton, you would have been free to love as you aren't now'.

'We are man and wife,' Margaret replied softly. 'I would never do anything to disgrace that'.

'Then you are better than I,' Henry sighed and rubbed his hands down his face. 'We are not man and wife, Margaret, not truly. A marriage never consummated is not truly a marriage. My only hope is to convince the courts of this'.

'Do you really think that it is possible?'

'It must be,' he murmured more to himself than to her. 'And when this is all over, I will stay here, and you can go back to Milton'.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered.

'What for?'

Margaret hung her head. 'I never thought I would find that love that mother and father had. I am ashamed to feel it now for someone else'.

'Margaret, have you not heard me bare myself to you? I have been living a lie before you and everyone we know. You are blameless and your transgressions are naught. He is an honourable man and worthy of your trust and love, it seems. No, I will fix this for both our sakes'.

Margaret could hardly believe her ears. What he was insinuating was so much more than what she had theorised. She knew that their marriage was one of convenience, but never had she considered that his reasoning might be thus. She resolved then to wait for him. She held little hope of the marriage being dissolved, and even if it was, the shame would be unbearable, she thought. If she arrived in Milton no longer a married woman, she imagined Mrs Thornton turning her away before she could even catch a glimpse of Mr Thornton. No, it was not possible.

Xxx

As the days turned to weeks, she began to see even less of Henry. Messages would be sent to excuse him from their evening meal for some reason or another. As Margaret had predicted, the quest to remove their marriage was not having much success and she spent more time than ever alone.

Some nights she would sit in silence reading. She would read sections of the volumes that she recalled her father and Mr Thornton reading and she would remember their conversations. This strange little practice led to much diversion for her as she could hear their voices in her head and imagined them there with her. She could picture Mr Thornton's intense gaze as he looked at her, and her father's unknowing smile as he continued to speak passionately about one subject or another.

Remembering back to those times, she didn't know how she had never placed Mr Thornton's expression before. The evident passion in his eyes when they had looked at one another was still enough to make her blush at the memory and she could not help the longing that filled her heart.

Her desk lay strewn with pieces of discarded paper where she'd started letters and then thought better of it. She wanted to know how he faired and how business was progressing. She wanted to know whether he still thought of her as she did him. Oh, it was a torment she could hardly bear.

She had considered writing to Fanny in an effort to glean some information, but she knew that the girl was self-absorbed and would likely send back no reply of any consequence. So, there she sat, with no news to quell her curiosity and no company to speak of.

It seemed that Edith had noticed her cousin's low spirits, as she made it her business to invite her to diner with them as often as possible. As much as Margaret valued her solitude, she was grateful to have the distraction of company on those nights when Henry did not return until well after she had gone to bed. In fact, some nights, she wondered whether he returned home at all.

One such night, her Aunt Shaw brought up the subject whilst they were dining. Captain Lennox, while always quick to defend his brother, was even surprised at his actions and vowed to Margaret that he would have words to him.

'Indeed,' Mrs Shaw huffed, 'For he is lucky to have her. It is not very gentlemanly to leave your wife alone every night. Tis dangerous'.

Margaret smiled softly. 'He has his business, aunt. I cannot stop him from attending to his duties'.

'No, of course not, but a man's duty is also to his wife,' she sniffed.

Captain Lennox gave Margaret a small smile. 'I will speak with him tomorrow. Do not fear, Margaret, I will not berate him too harshly'.

Margaret smiled at her brother-in-law. He was a kind man and very well suited to her sweet cousin. They were both of them too good for the world in general and Margaret feared that Edith would wilt as her mother had if they were ever to move somewhere such as Milton. Edith was delicate and angelic and built of a different stock to Margaret. She could never weather the harsh reality of Milton.

As they were moving to sit in the parlour for the rest of the evening, a servant came to the door and announced the arrival of a most unexpected visitor.

'Excuse me, but a policeman is at the door. He is very adamant that he speaks to Mrs Margaret Lennox and Captain Lennox immediately'.

Everyone froze for a few moments before Margaret leapt to her feet, followed closely by the Captain.

'Did he say what he wanted with us?' asked Margaret.

'No ma'am, only that it was most important I fetch the two of you straight away,' the servant girl replied.

'Well then,' Margaret turned to Captain Lennox. 'I suppose we must go and see what he wants'.

**xxx**

**Right, so as I said at the beginning of this chapter, please tread forward with caution when the next update comes. If you are in a fragile position with your mental health, please be careful. For those would asked, these events were planned from the beginning. Love to you all and thank you so very much for all of your kind words. **


	15. Chapter 15

**WARNING! This chapter contains some confronting events that may be sensitive to some. So please, only continue at your own discretion. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy another chapter. I'm sorry for the delay as I've been busy with uni work. Unfortunately my degree is online so no break from that. **

**xxx**

Henry stood stoically by the window and watched the people passing by on the street below. How happy they looked, and how oblivious to the things that would cause others such immense pain and regret. He felt envy as well as distain as he downed the last of his drink and moved to pour himself another.

The desk before him was a mess of papers, some pertaining to his task, others were the letters that he had treasured so privately. He picked up one such letter and skimmed over the writing, a bitter smile spreading across his face as his eyes fell on the initials S.K neatly written at the bottom.

He reached for the bottle of fine whisky and instead of pouring it, he drank directly from the bottle. After weeks and weeks of trying to rectify his mistake, it was too late. His one chance at true happiness in life was gone, snuffed out by the very thing that threatened to snuff his life out as well.

With gritted teeth, he turned his head to the small fireplace that had died down to embers and rose from his chair, gathering up the papers on his desk and throwing them unceremoniously onto the fire.

As the heat ignited the papers and the evidence of his love burnt away, Henry took another deep swig from the bottle and sat it back down on the desk. The increased light in the room illuminated the amber liquid within the bottle and he thought it quite beautiful at that moment.

He snatched up the bottle once more and brought it to his lips again, this time taking in the liquid until there wasn't a drop left. Before the alcohol could take over his mind, he pulled out another piece of paper and scrawled down a hasty letter to his wife.

His dear Margaret. She did not deserve what he had given her. He had not missed the longing in her eyes when she gazed upon Mr Thornton and he knew that the man cared for her. He only wished that he had never thought of marrying, and further still that he had never thought of Margaret as a willing candidate.

He poured his feelings into the letter and folded it roughly before placing it into his pocket. He then wrenched up the draw and looked down at his final answer. The answer he had kept a secret for months, but never used.

He carefully took it out of the draw and draped it over his shoulder, quickly blowing out the candles as he left the room.

He made it to the bridge only a short walk away from his practice and scanned the streets, so as to make sure no one would see him. Once he was certain of his isolation, he took the rope from off his shoulder and attached it to the strong steel of the bridge. He made sure the knot was firm and even in his inebriated state, he was certain of its strength.

Using the steel beams as support, he climbed up to the railing and placed the loop of the rope about his neck. With everything in place, he stepped from the railing.

The jolting pain was excruciating, and while it was his body's natural instinct to fight for life, he closed his eyes and tried his best to resist it. After some time, the pain died away with his body's fight for air and he slipped away into darkness.

Xxx

Margaret and the Captain were silent for the policeman's explanation, both too shocked to speak. They were led to the mortuary, where they were shown without a shadow of a doubt, that Henry Lennox was no longer among the living.

Margaret was numb with the overload of emotions that all threatened to spill out all at once and she could see the same look reflected back at her in Captain Lennox's eyes.

'Oh Henry,' she whispered, reaching forward to close the glassy eyes that stared without seeing.

'This was found on his body, Miss,' the officer handed her a slightly scrunched letter with _Margaret Hale_ written across it in rough writing so very unlike Henry. 'I know you'll likely want your privacy, but I do need to know if that letter indicates without a doubt that this was or was not a suicide'.

Margaret nodded and carefully unfolded the letter.

_Dearest Margaret, _

_I do not know how to write this letter. It is only with a good deal of whisky that I even have the courage. I am very thankful that despite our situation, you have still been so very good to me. I do not deserve the kindness you offer without question. _

_A little over a year ago, a young man came to work as an assistant under one of my colleagues. You may have heard me mention a Mr Samuel King at some stage or another. He died some days ago. They found him hanging from the rafters in his father's house. I cannot begin to explain everything to you, just know that where you have found passion, I too had found it. _

_I implore that you not waste your time mourning me, as I do not. I was not meant for this world just as you were not meant for me. Be happy my dear Margaret. Everything I have is yours, such as it is. Take it and go. Go to Spain, or Helstone or Milton. Go my dear Margaret and know that I cared for you. Perhaps not as a husband should, but as a dear friend. We are both free now. _

_Henry_

As she finished reading, the emotions she had held back were released and a sob escaped her mouth. Captain Lennox took her into his arms and the two embraced as brother and sister comforting one another.

The policeman watched on in silence, standing a respectful distance away from the pair of them.

'He did it,' she murmured to the officer. 'I have no doubt'.

The officer nodded and moved around the table to carefully cover Henry once more with the sheet. Margaret's face was wet with tears and she could feel the tears of Captain Lennox cascading down into her hair from above.

In that moment, time was at a standstill. Margaret did not think of her parents or even of Mr Thornton and the friends she'd left in Milton. She thought only of Henry and how he must have suffered.

Xxx

They had the funeral two days later and Henry was buried in the cemetery with the rest of his family graves. Margaret visited the space every day for that first week, leaving flowers and talking to Henry. Everyone gave her space for this time, for which she was very grateful. On the seventh day, she walked to the cemetery with two roses. She placed one on Henry's grave and after a bit of investigation, she found the grave of the man Henry had mentioned in his letter.

'I did not know you, but I am sorry,' she murmured as she gently placed the rose on the grave. She observed the dates on the stone and sighed. He had been younger than she was when he died. A life with so much potential gone so soon.

A little way away, she saw a lady who could not be too much older than herself placing a small bouquet of wildflowers on a grave. She did not mean to stare, but when the lady turned, their eyes met.

'Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude'.

'You're not intruding,' the young blonde approached with a smile, skirts swishing behind her. 'I use this time to remember, not to mourn'.

'How long…?'

The lady looked back towards the grave and then back at Margaret. 'Three years, though it feels like longer. He was my husband'.

'Oh'.

The lady's eyes drifted down to the grave before Margaret and then back again. 'Who was he?'

'Oh,' Margaret shifted a little, 'I did not know him. He meant a lot to a friend of mine, so I thought I should come to him at the same time'.

'That's very kind of you,' the lady smiled warmly, and the light shone brightly in her vibrant blue eyes. 'But do not come here to mourn. Although you miss your friend, I'm sure they would want you to be happy'.

'You do not mourn him any longer?' asked Margaret.

The lady shook her head. 'Of course, I miss his company, but I do not mourn. My husband and I take this walk every week and he waits for me while I visit,' she nodded to a man standing by the entrance to the cemetery, looking out across the park.

'Forgive me for my questioning, but does he not find it strange?'

'No,' she shook her head. 'He understands the importance of remembrance and he knows that my love is not only for the dead'.

'And you're happy?'

'Very,' she smiled warmly again, and Margaret could not help but reciprocate.

The lady bid her a good day and walked off to re-join her husband. Margaret starred after them for some time before she turned to look out in the direction of Henry's grave. She pulled the letter out of her purse and looked down once more at the message Henry had written to her. He told her to go. To go out and find what would make her happy. Milton came to her mind, but she knew it would be highly improper to go there without waiting some time. What would she say if she did? It was not such a simple thing to explain.

She decided to wait some time before making any big plans when it came to her future. With the combined wealth of Mr Bell and Henry's assets, she had more than the means to live a most lavish life if she wished to. She turned her nose up at the thought as she made her way back in the direction of the Shaw house.

Xxx

Mr Thornton hardly listened to the gentlemen as they prattled on about business. His thoughts were too occupied on his own business issues and the impending closure of Marlborough mills. Hamper was a little smug at his expense and it bothered John to no end that he was wasting time in the company of such people.

Still, his mother had bid him go. If not for his own sake, but for the possibility of coming to some sort of deal with another master. John knew coming into the gathering that he did not trust I single one of them enough to form a partnership of any kind. They were cruel, selfish men who only thought about the money they made, not the quality of the product they produced nor the wellbeing of their workers.

'Did any of you hear about that chap from London?' Slickson asked suddenly and John frowned, only half following what was being said.

'What was that?' Hamper asked over the hubbub.

'That chap from London, Mr Lennox, or whatever his name was,' Slickson answered again. 'A friend of mine from London reckoned he killed himself'.

'Oh, come off it,' Hamper laughed, 'you haven't got any friends'.

'What did you say?' John asked suddenly and Slickson started at being addressed so suddenly when John had scarce said two words all night.

'That lawyer, Henry Lennox,' Slickson elaborated. 'I heard he killed himself last Friday. They found him hanging from a bridge in London'.

'He killed himself,' John repeated in wonderment.

'Didn't seem the type to me,' Hamper responded with a shrug. 'He seemed like a very contented chap'.

'Well I haven't heard much more about it,' Slickson cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. 'Though he did say that it was fairly likely that Mr Lennox wasn't very faithful'.

'What, with a wife like her?' Hamper scoffed. 'I doubt he'd find any prettier, even with his income'.

Several of the men chuckled then and different conversations continued around the table. John sat back in his chair, not hearing a word more of what was spoken. He wanted to be far away from those men. He wanted to leave that instant and run to the train station. He wanted to be with Margaret.

Once the party had disbanded for the night, John was glad that no one walked the same direction as he did. As his shoes pounded the path, he lost himself in the whirlwind of thoughts that flashed through his mind. Could it really be true? Was he a monster for feeling the slightest twinge of hope? Not that he hoped for Mr Lennox to be dead, but he did have hope that Margaret would in the future be in a position to be with him.

Before he knew where his feet had taken him, he found himself standing opposite the dark and dormant house that the Hales had occupied not so long ago. He stared up at the dark windows, wishing to see her beautiful face looking down at him, but he saw only darkness. He thought of the situation he was facing, and his heart sank. Margaret would never want him now. Not now that his position in life was precarious and she had inherited such wealth. No, he could not hope for that. All he could hope for was perhaps the pleasure of seeing her again someday.

**xxx**

**So there you have it. Now, I don't know how much you all know about the time period, but according to the sources I've found, there's some pretty interesting, but inconvenient information surrounding divorce and widows in the time. For example, the first divorces of legal nature were only a handful of years after the year North and South was set. So being true to the time, there was no possibility of divorce. I found this infuriating for some time while I was deliberating what to do, but this was my answer from early on. Do let me know what you thought. The rating of this story is now being changed to accommodate this chapter in particular. **


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello lovelies! I apologise for the delay, I had a massive uni assignment due yesterday and I actually had to spend time on it regardless of my wishes :( Anyway, I'm free now for a couple of weeks until the next one is due, and then exam revision, so hopefully I'll get some writing time! Thank you for your support and I hope you enjoy. **

**xxx**

The weeks following Henry's death were busy ones for Margaret. Edith and her aunt had insisted that Margaret move back into the house with them as she was not to be alone. Margaret would not have agreed, had it not been her desire to pack up the place as soon as she could. There was little purpose in her taking up a space that could accommodate a large family quite happily.

The condolences of acquaintances had slowly begun to ease, and Margaret felt that without the constant reminders, she was able to breathe better. She knew that they only offered them out of politeness and pity, neither of which she wanted from people she cared about very little.

She watched from the parlour window as down below her aunt and cousin bid farewell to their second party of guests that morning. Margaret had stayed upstairs and out of sight for the duration of both visits, insisting that she be excused from interacting. Her aunt had called her behaviour antisocial and insisted that it would do her no good, but Margaret didn't care. She was in no mood to exchange pleasantries with those who only cared for gossip.

Looking down at the boy sitting in the chair beside her, she smiled softly. Shalto was indeed a sweet boy and Margaret wondered if she would ever have children someday. It seemed very unlikely, but she liked to think that she would make a fitting mother should it happen in the future.

'You are growing up so quickly,' she smiled as the young lad tried to wiggle his way off the chair. 'You shall be running around in no time'.

The boy looked up at her smiling face and a giant grin spread across his. A small tooth poked out from his gums and another was beginning to show. Margaret scooped the boy up into her arms and carried him from the room.

'Your mothering is coming back now,' she nodded to him. 'Yes, she is'.

The boy let out a delighted squeal when Edith rounded the corner and she hurried to take him into her arms once more.

'Thank you for watching him, Margaret. Although I am uneasy to be parted from him, I know that he can be most disruptive at this time with his teeth coming in'.

'It's my pleasure, Edith,' Margaret assured her. 'He is no trouble at all'.

'I am hoping he continues to take after me,' Edith smiled warmly. 'Mother says I was as quiet as a mouse when I was a baby'.

'Are you expecting any more visitors this morning?'

'None that I am aware of,' Edith replied as they made their way up the stairs once more. 'I do hope there aren't'.

Margaret chuckled and Edith sighed.

'You must realise that it is exhausting for me too,' the blonde lady sank down onto a chair with her son. 'But I cannot be excused as you can'.

'You cannot refuse your mother, that is why,' Margaret replied with a smile.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just watching the young boy. His pure presence was like a balm to Margaret. After seeing so much suffering, he was a great relief to behold.

'Do you think you will leave us soon?' Edith asked quietly.

'What do you mean?'

Edith sighed. 'I can see it in your eyes. You don't want to stay here'.

'I do have plans to visit Fred some time, but other than that, I do not know'.

Edith nodded. 'As long as we are never too far apart'.

'Oh Edith,' Margaret sighed as she thought of the distance between London and Milton. 'We will always visit one another and write to one another, no matter how far apart we are'.

'Well don't go too far'.

Margaret sighed again as her cousin sniffed sadly. She loved her dearly, but Edith had a family. All of the people Margaret cared for were far away. Her brother was in Spain and the man she loved was in Milton. As much as she hated to think of it, Edith was just going to have to understand that Margaret could not be there with her forever.

Xxx

Higgins walked slowly down the row of silent machinery. Besides his obvious concern that he would once again be without work, he felt for Mr Thornton. Over the past few months, he had gotten to know and understand the gentleman. Where once he only saw another money-hungry master, he now held a great respect for the work ethic and principles of the young gentleman.

The man himself stood up on the viewing platform, with his back to him. He leant there with his head in his hands, and it struck Higgins how young he truly was. While he was older than many of the young workers, he was still a young man. He always held himself in such a way as to demand respect, and yet hear he was, only a young man with the world crumbling around him.

'What're you still doing here?' he called down without turning around.

Higgins slowly made his way up onto the platform beside him. 'Just because it's a last shift, doesn't mean it's not worth doing well'.

Mr Thornton snorted. 'You're a good worker, Higgins. You never lied about that'.

'I may be speaking out of line here,' Higgins began cautiously, 'but I heard that the ownership of the place switched hands from that fellow to Mrs Lennox'.

'Aye'.

'Could you not come to some business agreement with her?'

Mr Thornton shook his head and puffed out a short laugh. 'And what could I possibly have to offer her in exchange?'

Higgins shrugged. 'I'm sure she wouldn't require much'.

'Do you know her so well?' Mr Thornton asked absently.

'Not as well as you, I'm sure,' Higgins gave him a sly smile.

'What do you know?' Mr Thornton asked with narrowed eyes.

'Nothing,' Higgins assured him with a smug smile. 'But it doesn't take a smart man to see how you look at her'.

'That doesn't matter,' Mr Thornton straightened up and sighed. 'She will not come here'.

'She's free to do as she pleases. I think she might surprise you'.

Mr Thornton turned to him with a stony expression. 'I am no longer in a position to offer her anything. I'd suggest you not speak of such things again'.

Higgins was saddened by Mr Thornton's sudden shift back to his more businesslike persona but did not argue. He nodded and reached down into his pocket.

'This is a list of names that I've collected. Men and women who would be more than happy to run a mill for you should you ever be in the position again'.

The stony expression softened slightly as Mr Thornton took the paper and a small smile curled his lips.

'Thank you, Higgins. You will be the first to know if any such thing were to happen'.

Higgins reached out his hand and Mr Thornton took it in a firm handshake. Thornton wished him luck and he left the mill alone. As he crossed the empty yard, he hoped deep down that Margaret would come. He knew that Mr Thornton longed for her return despite himself and he knew that her presence in Milton again could only bring good.

Xxx

Four weeks following the closure of Marlborough mills, Margaret was sitting with Edith at the breakfast table when the post arrived. While most of the letters that arrived at any time for usually for her aunt or Edith, there was one addressed to Margaret that morning.

As there wasn't much conversation that morning, Margaret did not feel impolite opening it. Her name and address were written in elegant looping characters and she felt her curiosity growing as she carefully opened it up.

_Dear Mrs Lennox, _

_I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear that since marrying, I have finally finished my decoration of our house here in Milton. It is so beautiful I cannot begin to explain it in writing. I must have you come to Milton immediately so see it, if that is agreeable to you, of course._

_Mr Watson and I shall gladly receive you at any time following the delivery of this letter. I do miss the conversation of someone who does not constantly speak of business. I hardly see hide nor hair of Miss Latimer anymore since John's circumstances have changed. I fear she may not have valued my friendship at all. _

_Do not care to send a reply if you are coming. I will look forward to you visiting whenever you are able. _

_Fanny Watson_

Margaret held back her exasperation at the foolish girl's impudence. While she had not expected Fanny to have heard about Henry, she would have hoped that such a letter would at least contain some enquiry after her health at the very least. Reading through the letter again she was only vexed further by the girl's self-centeredness.

Her eyes fell on the part that mentioned John and his circumstances. She had received word that the business was in trouble, but she did not know the extent of it, no doubt due to some neglect on her banker's part. Without Henry to organise their finances and explain things to her, she found herself quite lost and she suspected that as a woman, she was not so privy to all the details as she should be.

Still, the appeal of visiting Milton was not lost on Margaret as she looked up at the other woman at the table. Neither of them looked at her as they too were reading. With a deep breath, she cleared her throat.

'I have received an invitation to go to Milton,' she announced with a smile.

'By whom?' her aunt asked with a raised brow. 'I did not expect your friends from Milton to be writing'.

Margaret had to resist rolling her eyes. 'All of my friends can read, aunt, and a great deal of them can write. This invitation is from Fanny Watson, once Fanny Thornton. The Thornton's are a very respected family in Milton, I assure you'.

'Is Mr Thornton not your tenant?' Edith asked curiously.

'Yes,' Margaret nodded, 'and that is another reason for me to pay a visit. The business had been struggling when I was last in Milton. It would be prudent for me to see for myself'.

Her aunt looked conflicted. 'My dear, you are still in mourning. Should you not delay your visit for a few months?'

'And what if I do not?' Margaret asked seriously. 'I do not care for the opinions of society. To them I am merely a waste of youth'.

'Come Margaret'—

'No, aunt. I am a widow now. Nothing I ever do will be seen with the same respect as it once was. Whether I move about in society before a year has passed, whether I marry again or live out my days alone, it matters not. I am forever marked in their eyes'.

'Oh Margaret,' Edith cried as tears blossomed in her eyes.

'I cannot stay in London,' Margaret whispered, more to herself than to either of them. 'I am so very grateful to you both for taking me in, but you must understand the need for me to leave'.

'What can you be in Milton that you cannot be here?' asked Edith earnestly.

Margaret smiled softly. 'I don't know, but I do know that I can be of much better use there, and the people are too busy to pay me any mind. I will not be such a scandal to behold'.

Aunt Shaw pursed her lips. 'I know that if you have made up your mind, there is little I can do to stop you. But I would make my disapproval known'.

'You and all who would care to, aunt,' Margaret replied calmly as she rose from her chair. 'I will take the next train and be in Milton this afternoon'.

With that she left the room, leaving Edith staring after her in disbelief and her aunt wondering what the north had done to her young niece to cause her to abandon all reason.

Margaret packed her things with a smile on her face, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She loved her cousin and respected her aunt a great deal, but they both set far too much stock in their image in society. Edith was only following what she had been taught by her mother, and aunt Shaw followed whatever she believed the Beresford way to be. Her delusions of familial grandeur had always caused Margaret irritation, but never more so than when she would put the family image above the cares of family.

**xxx**

**Has anyone researched widows in the 1800s. It was nasty stuff. They weren't allowed in society for the first year and weren't allowed to married again for years. They would also wear black of the rest of their lives, some of them. Also, if they were to remarry, it would never be considered as meaningful by society. Crazy. Don't worry though, Margaret aint about that life. :P **


	17. Chapter 17

**I'm so sorry for my absence, I promise I haven't given up on this. I've just had a lot of work and then have spent all my downtime watching Anne with an E. Have you guys seen it? It's wonderful! Perhaps I'll write one for it after this story is finished. #renewAnnewithanE**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy. There should only be a couple more chapters of our tale to go. At least two. Thank you all for sticking with me!**

**xxx**

Margaret was woken abruptly by the sounds of the train grinding to a halt and she wondered idly how much longer of her journey she had to go. It wasn't until she heard the familiar 'Milton!' called out from beyond the compartment that she realised how long she had slept.

She hurried from the compartment and out onto the smoky platform. She paid no mind to any of the few people there as she made her way out of the station. With a few hours of daylight left, she made her way to where she knew a hotel could be found and secured lodging for herself for at least that night.

After having some time to acclimatise to her new surroundings, she wrote a quick message to Fanny and sent it with a servant. She knew that the lady would be unlikely to be available that day, so she had asked for a time to be set for the following day.

Taking to the streets once more, Margaret was overjoyed to be following the familiar path to the Higgins' house. She longed to see Nicholas and Mary, and she hoped that her presence would be a welcome surprise.

When she reached the door, it was slightly ajar, and she knocked tentatively.

'Who is it?' a familiar, gruff voice replied.

Margaret smiled and pushed the door open slowly. 'It is only me'.

Nicholas, who she now saw was laying across one of the beds, leapt to his feet and hurried to the door.

'Goodness Miss, we didn't expect to see you here,' he greeted with a smile and gestured enthusiastically for her to come inside.

'I confess I was not sure if you would be home. I quite forgot the hours of your work at the mill'.

Nicholas' expression sobered. 'No more work, Miss'.

'Did something happen between you and Mr Thornton?' she asked immediately. 'I had thought that you were getting on well'.

'No, nothing like that, Miss. Although, I'm a bit surprised you don't know, as it is your property now'.

'Don't know what?' she asked, but she already knew what he was going to say.

'Buyers couldn't pay, and we couldn't keep up. Thornton had to close up'.

'How long ago?'

'About four weeks'.

'Goodness,' she whispered.

'If you've come to Milton looking for Thornton, I've not seen him since me last shift'.

'Mrs Watson invited me to come,' Margaret blurted. 'But I cannot deny that I was hoping to see him'.

Higgins gave her a sly smile. 'I knew you would. I knew you couldn't stay away'.

Margaret bowed her head as a rosy glow spread through her cheeks. 'I have quit society, Nicholas'.

'I didn't realise you could do that?' he replied with a short laugh.

'I know that London is very different to here, but surely the same is expected of widows here as it is anywhere…' she trailed off.

'I think you've chosen the right place to come if you're not wanting to be judged, Miss,' Nicholas said softly. 'We here don't abide by such things. It's hardly fair to expect a young lady such as yourself to live a life of isolation'.

'I fear that my family may not understand so readily,' she sighed. 'But how did you hear of my circumstances?'

'Thornton,' Higgins nodded gravely. 'There was some talk about it between the masters one night. He couldn't be sure though, as his source wasn't exactly reliable'.

'I suppose they were this time'.

'Look Miss, I've heard you talk enough about your marriage to know that you probably shouldn't have been married to begin with. If you were to remarry, just know that you'll not have any judgement from us, and you'll always be welcome here'.

'Thank you, Nicholas,' Margaret smiled softly. 'But I think there is little chance of that. I am already living a scandal being out'.

'Not here though, Miss. Like I said, the people here have much more important things to worry about,' he turned his head to the sleeping forms of several children.

Margaret's eyes followed his. 'Do they always sleep so early?'

Nicholas shook his head. 'The eldest has just started work at Hampers. I didn't want to send em there, but with Thornton's closed, I had no choice. I just hope I can get them someplace better before what happened to Bess…'

'Oh Nicholas,' Margaret whispered and reached across the table to take his hand. 'She knew you did you best for her. You could not have known'—

'But I do now,' he growled. 'The poor child is exhausted. Hamper is not nearly so kind as Thornton'.

'Did the money I gave you help any?'

'Aye,' Nicholas nodded. 'Thank you again for your kindness. I've used a piece of it to help the little one go to school some. Thornton reckons he needs a good education. Took a real shine to him, he did'.

Margaret smiled softly. She adored learning more about the kindness of Mr Thornton's heart. She already knew he was caring, but she truly loved hearing that he had began to peel back the hard exterior that he presented to those around him. As a master it was expected and understandable that he present an authoritative figure, but his softness was so much more respectable in her eyes.

xxx

The following day, Margaret awoke to the familiar sounds of people in the street below. She stretched lazily and wandered over to the window, letting her soft curls fall about her shoulders. For the first time in many months, she felt truly free to do as she pleased. She carefully prepared herself for the day and slowly descended the stairs.

The same man greeted her at the front desk and handed her a small piece of paper. It was a return note from Mrs Watson, thanking her for her prompt reply and expressing her wish for her to join them for tea at 10 o'clock. It also included the address which although unfamiliar to Margaret, was undoubtedly in the area of the town away from industrial work. It surprised her that Fanny would be so easily settled in Milton, but Watson was a businessman and he clearly had the final say.

As Margaret made her way in the direction of that area, she was met with greetings from several of the workers in the streets. They had not forgot her kindness in past days, it seemed, and Margaret was touched by their recollection.

The tight streets gave way to larger plots of land with houses of increasing size and extravagance. None of them were as ornate as those that housed the richest in London, but they were all sizable and very elegant. As Margaret reached the end of the street, she noticed a house with a tall iron fence ahead and looked once more at Fanny's note for reference.

The place was perhaps a little gaudier than some that she had passed, and she knew at once that she was at the correct address. She opened the gate and entered the yard with trepidation. What if Mr Thornton had decided to visit his sister? While she found it unlikely that he would spend his days with her, Margaret knew that she wasn't thinking rationally in that moment.

A servant answered the door and invited her inside. Margaret could not help but stare as she took in the entranceway to the home. A wide staircase took prize position in the room with ornate bannisters and carpeted stairs. Above it hung a large portrait of the couple with an ornate golden frame. Thick, heavy, blue curtains hung from the windows, and the floors were polished to perfection.

The servant directed her up the stairs and Margaret followed silently as she was led down a wide corridor to a set of double doors. The doors lining the corridor were all a rich mahogany and the ceiling was embellished with swirling designs. Their footsteps echoed on the polished floor as they walked, and Margaret couldn't help but feel that the place was cold and unwelcoming. Even the Thornton's home had been more welcoming, and it was still rather dark.

Margaret was shown through the doors into a brightly lit parlour and asked to wait a moment. Looking around the room she noticed a distinctly more feminine touch to the décor. This room was undoubtedly Fanny's pride and joy.

After several minutes, the lady herself emerged, wearing a delicate gown of light pink with white embellishments. She smiled warmly and greeted Margaret with unbridled happiness.

'I'm so glad that you could come so soon. Watson said you wouldn't come as you're still in mourning, but I knew you would if I asked'.

Margaret smiled. 'Of course. I was very glad to receive your invitation. It is good to see married life treating you so well'.

'Yes,' Fanny agreed, and her smile faltered. 'I was sorry to hear about your husband. As you may know, my father did the same'.

'I did not know that,' Margaret confessed, 'though I am very sorry'.

'It was many years ago now,' Fanny nodded. 'Such is the danger of business'.

Margaret found herself caught by surprise at Fanny's mature words. Perhaps marriage truly had helped her grow up. Maybe having anything she ever wanted had helped her realise the importance of other things in life.

'I heard about Marlborough Mills'.

'Yes, poor John,' Fanny sighed. 'I tried to tell him that the speculation would work, but he wouldn't risk it'.

'Would it really have helped so much?'

Fanny shrugged. 'I wouldn't know the figures, but it would have helped'.

At that moment, the bell rang outside and Fanny leapt to her feet. 'Goodness, there is mother already'.

'Your mother is coming here?'

Fanny nodded. 'She spends a little time here when she has time. Of course, the house is likely to be let soon, so she does not wish to be there all the time alone'.

'Where is Mr Thornton?' Margaret asked curiously.

'My brother left for London some days ago,' Fanny explained as she stood to wait for her mother's entrance.

Margaret wondered to herself what he could be doing. Perhaps he was seeking funding for the Mills. That would make sense. There was no chance he was there for her, was he?

'Mrs Lennox,' the familiar voice of Mrs Thornton greeted. 'I did not expect to find you here'.

'I suppose not,' Margaret bowed her head in a respectful nod. 'But I came nevertheless'.

'Come to look over your possessions?' she asked gruffly. 'He's worked his whole life for them, and you swept in and took them'.

Fanny faded into the background as Margaret faced Mrs Thornton with a strength, she never knew she possessed. 'I would never do such a thing. If that is what you believe, madam, then you know very little about my character'.

Mrs Thornton did not immediately respond, but Margaret was almost certain she saw the shadow of a smile behind her expression.

'My son has gone to London to seek funding for the mills. I would appreciate if you didn't turf us onto the street before he has the opportunity to return'.

Margaret shook her head and sighed. 'You misunderstand me completely, Mrs Thornton, but I would like a chance to explain myself to you, if you would permit it?'

The older woman looked a little confused but nodded. It seemed that Fanny's house tour was going to have to wait a little longer than she'd hoped.

**xxx**

**Alrighty, that's another chapter out into the void. Enjoy, dear void. Thanks again for all your support. I really do appreciate your reviews. They make me smile :) Until next I post ;)**


	18. Chapter 18

**I am back again! Thank you all so much for your continued kind words. There will only be two more chapters after this one, so we're nearly there! I have an exam coming up next week and I do really need to study for it so I'm not sure if the next chapter will be out before it or not. Enjoy, my friends!**

**xxx**

Hannah Thornton was silent as the young lady led the way into her parlour. The servant left them alone and the two stood in silence for some time before speaking.

'Have a seat'. She had not meant it to sound so stern, but her concern for her son's wellbeing kept her from making her usual efforts to be polite.

Margaret took a seat in the chair at the head of the long, empty table and Mrs Thornton took the one beside her.

'Would you care to explain why a young widow such as yourself is here in Milton, away from her family whilst still in mourning?'

Margaret flinched visibly. 'I was under the impression that such things weren't of consequence here'.

'Perhaps not so much, but that doesn't mean I don't know what is expected of you'.

The young woman sighed. 'Did you marry for love, Mrs Thornton?'

The temptation to chide the girl for her imprudent question came and went as Mrs Thornton observed her. 'I married because it was expected of me. Love was never my motivation'.

'Then you understand me,' Margaret continued, her eyes cast down to the table. 'I only married so that I was no longer a burden to my parents. Henry and I had a relationship of mutual respect and friendship, but we were never truly husband and wife'.

Mrs Thornton waited for to her to continue with her usual mask of indifference in place.

Margaret took a moment to choose her next words. 'My marriage to Henry was never consummated. He wanted the marriage just as much as I did, it seemed. He took his own life because he could not be with the one he wanted to be with'.

Mrs Thornton frowned then. 'Why did he not marry her instead of you?'

'I do not wish to betray his trust, even in death, but I will say that it was never possible. Their love was forbidden from the start'.

'I see'.

'So now you find me here, Mrs Thornton. I know that you don't trust me or like me but hear me now. I want to help you and Mr Thornton. Whether I must be anonymous or not, I cannot see him suffer, or know that I could have done something to help you'.

Mrs Thornton was shocked. 'What are you proposing?'

'I have money now, and little to do with it. I want Mr Thornton to take this money and reopen the mill. I want you both to be able to continue as before without fear of failure. I want him to be happy…'

'And what would you want in return?'

'Nothing,' Margaret whispered. 'I need only see the mills run again and the debtors paid to be content'.

Mrs Thornton narrowed her eyes. 'We would be in your debt'.

'No debt,' Margaret shook her head. 'That I can promise you'.

'John will need to know of this,' Hannah replied, still not willing to believe her ears. 'Where can you be reached once I have gotten word to him?'

Margaret relayed the address of her hotel and left her in a state of complete and utter confusion.

Perhaps it was not so much confusion as it was surprise at the young lady's actions. While Mrs Thornton was not a romantic person, even she could understand the look in Margaret's eyes when she spoke of her son. Whilst their marriage had not begun as such, she had known some semblance of love with her late husband. She knew that John still loved the girl and now having heard almost as much from Margaret, she had little else to do but write an urgent message to John at once.

Xxx

John strode down the busy street with little knowledge of where he was going. His determination to save his livelihood was distracted from time to time by the appearance of a lady who resembled Margaret or a voice that he yearned to be hers. Whilst London was a very large place, he could not help but hope to run into her at some time or other, if only to gaze upon her beauty once more.

His attempts to acquire funding had not gone well and he had very few options left available to him. He entered his lodgings with a heavy heart and was greeted at the entrance by a man holding the post.

'Excuse me sir, but are you a Mr Thornton?'

'I am,' he answered with a nod.

'This came for you this morning,' the man thrust an envelope at him and then hurried out into the street before he could offer his thanks.

He recognised the writing as his mother's and opened it immediately, fearing that something else had happened in his absence.

_John, _

_In your absence, I have received a generous offer for full funding of the mill and all of its operations. I would have you come home at once. There is much that needs discussing. I hope to see you tomorrow if this reaches you._

_H.T_

His heart leapt in his chest. Could it really be true? He hurriedly cancelled his accommodation for the night and took off in the direction of the nearest station. If there truly was an investor willing to fund them again, he did not have a minute to lose.

As he boarded the train, his mind began to imagine all sorts of impossible things. He saw the business up and running again, he saw his mother restored to her rightful place and he saw himself in a position to be worthy of Margaret. Oh, how lovely that all sounded. He smiled softly at the hope of such things and drifted off into the most peaceful sleep he'd had in many weeks.

Xxx

Once he reached Milton, John made light work of winding his way through the station and out into the street. In that moment his legs needed no encouragement. He rushed through the streets as fast as he could without running. At one moment he was sure he saw a familiar face down one of the side streets as he hurried past, but I did not stop to check. There would be time for that, and he knew his eyes to be fooling him.

As he entered the empty yard of the mill, he was struck once more by sadness as he thought of his mother staying there alone for the time he'd been gone. He never wanted that to happen again. His mother was never to be alone and vulnerable again.

The usual servant greeted him at the door, and he did not wait to climb the stairs. He found his mother in her usual seat with some papers spread out before her.

'Tell me,' he breathed. 'Are we to receive funding?'

Mrs Thornton nodded, and his heart leapt again.

'Who? From where?'

Mrs Thornton leant around to him to where the servant was coming to close the door behind him. 'Could you send word to Mrs Lennox that my son has returned?'

The servant nodded and bowed before leaving once more.

Mr Thornton frowned at his mother. 'I do not understand. Why is Mrs Lennox here?'

'I'll allow her to explain,' Mrs Thornton replied firmly. 'I do not wish to put words in her mouth when she'll have plenty of her own'.

John winced a little at his mother's jab towards Margaret. She knew how much it wounded him, and she continued to scorn her. Little did he know, she did not mean her words as he assumed.

It didn't take more than an hour before there was a knock at the door. John leapt to his feet at once and caught his mother's eye. She nodded and he left the room to greet their guest. His heart hammered in his chest as he rounded the corner to see her greeting the servant by the door. Even from his position at the top of the stairs, he could see how thin and pale she looked in her black attire. It was a harsh reminder to him that she was in mourning and would likely never wear any other colour again.

His observation of her was interrupted when the servant directed her up the stairs and she looked in his direction. The moment their eyes met, John felt the warmth rise in his chest and it pleased him immensely to see the hue of her cheeks deepen to a lovely shade of pink.

She ascended the stairs slowly and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her face. Seeing her again gave him more pleasure than he cared to admit, and he was more than happy to offer her his hand as she ascended the final steps.

She took it gratefully and gave him a shy smile. He was loath to let go of her as she bowed her head in greeting.

'Mr Thornton,' she greeted softly. Oh, her voice was a sweet balm to his aching heart.

'Mrs Lennox,' he responded in an equally soft tone. 'What brings you back to Milton?'

'I have a matter to discuss with you and your mother,' she blurted. 'Do you mind if we discuss it in the parlour?'

'Not at all,' he nodded and gestured for her to go ahead of him.

John would've been happy to listen to anything she had to say, even if she were to round on him and slander his name. The words she spoke were such pretty ones and he was completely awestruck as she put forth her proposition to fund Marlborough mills. By the end of her explanation he was speechless. There she sat, she who owed them nothing, offering them everything. If he had not loved her before, he had no doubt in that moment. She had no right to be so generous and selfless.

'We can discuss the particulars later,' she added quietly.

'Why would you do this?' he asked seriously. 'Do you not have other purposes for your money?'

'None that would ever require so much,' she replied earnestly. 'I require only what I need to live on, which is a remarkably small sum in comparison'.

'I imagine living in London is not cheap'.

'I'm no longer living in London,' she confessed to both their surprise. 'That is to say, I won't be for much longer'.

'Have you any plans of where you might be moving to?' asked Mrs Thornton.

Margaret shook her head. 'I have places I'd like to visit, but as of yet I have only considered Milton. My business is here and a good amount of my friends. But at this point it is only a possibility'.

Their conversation continued to other topics and after a few minutes more, Margaret bid them good day. She mentioned something about visiting with friends and John saw her to the door.

As the door closed behind her, John sighed softly. He could feel the eyes of his mother watching him from the top of the stairs and he turned to face her with a small smile.

She gave him a look that he recognised as being torn between smiling and disapproving. He climbed the stairs quickly and took her into his arms.

'Perhaps we will be saved after all, mother'.

Mrs Thornton smiled and took his face in her hands. 'I have to apologise to you, John'.

'What for?'

'For my harsh judgement of Mrs Lennox,' she paused to gather her thoughts. 'She is much wiser than I gave her credit for'.

'Mother, would you…would it be disagreeable to you if I asked Margaret to be my wife?'

Mrs Thornton pulled away with a frown. 'Is it not highly improper to proposition a widow so soon after her husband's death?'

'Perhaps,' John sighed, 'but I cannot wait. Every moment I waste is another moment that she could find a reason to leave here'.

'I don't think she will,' Mrs Thornton replied softly. 'But do you not care for propriety? A widow is not free to wed again for several years in society. Could you not wait until then to wed?'

John gave his mother a small smile. 'If she agrees to be my wife, I will be content to wait some time, but any number of years is far too long. Propriety be damned, I would marry that woman tomorrow if I could'.

Mrs Thornton sighed. 'I have no further objections if it pleases you. She has proven herself to be a far better woman than I presumed her to be'.

'She is a fine woman,' Mr Thornton agreed, happy to voice his feelings so openly.

'Then I suggest you discuss this with her'.

Mr Thornton smiled. 'I will'.

**xxx**

**And there we are. I know it wasn't very long, but I wanted the next bits to be their own chapter. Thank you all so much for your support and please drop me a review and let me know what you thought. Hopefully the next one isn't long!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hi all. I'm sorry this update has taken a while. I've had some busy weeks and I'm now on nursing placement so I've had a little downtime in between shifts. Thank you all for your nice reviews. You deserve faster updates and I'm sorry. Anyway, without further ado, I give you the second last chapter. Much love to you all. **

**xxx**

Margaret spent the afternoon with the Higgins' and then retired back to her lodgings after dinner. She had been so pleased to provide them all a proper hot meal. Mary did her best for the family and was a fine cook, but rarely did she have quality ingredients to cook with.

After her meeting with the Thorntons, Margaret had walked to the grocers and butchers before her visit. She and Mary worked together in the small space and the result was a surprisingly tasty meal of hearty beef and vegetable stew with fresh bread and butter from the bakery. The children were delighted and while she sat with as many as could fit at the table, she wondered how they all managed to fit into the house. She made a note in her head to enquire about her parent's old home. If it was not leased, she wondered if perhaps Nicholas would live there so that the children would have more room to grow. Of course, she did not expect him to like the idea, but perhaps after some time he would see reason for the children's sake.

Once dinner was cleared away, Margaret sat with the youngest boy as he slowly read her a few pages of his book. She understood why Mr Thornton had seen potential in the boy. Some of the words he was pronouncing with little difficulty were more advanced than many of his age would know. It made her smile to think of Nicholas taking Mr Thornton's advice to heart and spending a little extra to get the boy some schooling.

'Quite gifted, isn't he?' Nicholas nodded to the lad. 'Better than me'.

'He is gifted,' she agreed with a smile. 'I would hate to see his talents go to waste'.

'Aye, but such is the world'.

'That doesn't mean it has to be,' Margaret replied softly.

She listened to the boy for a few more minutes before she noticed the light beginning to fade outside. The children didn't want her to leave, but she insisted she had to before dark and a word from Nicholas silenced any further objections. Margaret promised to visit them again the following day and went on her way.

Xxx

Margaret rose early the next morning and put it upon herself to take the walk she once often took through the park. The air was crisp as she stepped out into the street and she wrapped her coat more closely around her. Milton certainly did get colder than anywhere she had been before.

She observed the workers already hurrying through the dimly lit streets as the sun was only just beginning to poke through the clouds overhead. It was a rare sight to see the sun so brightly shining in Milton and Margaret quickened her steps to catch it.

She reached the park just as the warm rays reached the hillside and she stopped in her tracks. The sun felt wonderful on her skin and she closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling.

The sound of footsteps approaching disturbed her revelry and she opened her eyes once more to see the sun already beginning to disappear behind the clouds. The footsteps continued past and she turned to see a young man hurrying down the path she had come from. Sighing softly, she continued along the pathway.

The cold breeze bit at her cheeks and she increased her pace. Coming to the small grove at the very edge of the park, she took a moment to catch her breath. The small wooden bench was inviting, and she gladly took a seat thereon. The trees provided a gentle shield overhead and Margaret was reminded of Helstone. Whilst the town around her was full of activity, she could sit in silence in a small sanctuary.

Opening the drawstrings of her purse, she carefully removed the piece of paper inside and unfolded it. Every day since she received it, she had read that letter. As she read it once more, her fingers toyed with the small gold circle on her left hand. It was cool against her skin as she removed it from her finger and rolled it around her palm.

Sudden movement from the main path caught her attention and she was surprised to see Mr Thornton striding across the park. He still wore his black coat but gone were his hat and cravat that helped distinguish him as a gentleman. His eyes met hers from across the grove and they widened slightly before he began to make his way in her direction.

Margaret carefully placed the letter and the ring into her purse and stood, waiting for him to reach her.

'I did not expect to see you out so early,' he said by way of a greeting.

'One would hardly expect to see me out at all,' she laughed quietly.

'Am I interrupting your solitude?'

'No indeed, I was merely resting for a moment'.

Silence fell between them for some time. She met his eyes once more and her cheeks heated despite the cool temperature. The look he gave her was not one she had seen before and she was unsure of what to do. It was the softest she had ever seen and yet the strongest in intensity.

'Mr Thornton…' she trailed off as he silently stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Then, as he had received no discouragement, he raised a hand to carefully brush a stray curl away from her cheek. The path of his fingers across her skin left a tingling sensation and she exhaled shakily.

'Margaret'—

'Mr Thornton,' she cut across him and looked up with beseeching eyes. 'I would beg you not to continue unless…unless…'

His amused smile and the warm sensation of his hand on her cheek silenced her altogether. Although his action was bold, she could feel him shaking against her skin and his eyes conveyed to her his vulnerability.

'Why should I not continue?' he asked quietly.

A sensible answer did not present itself to Margaret as her mind swirled with nervousness and uncertainty. Her eyes fell to her purse and she fiddled with the strap anxiously.

Realising that an answer was not coming, he moved the hand on her cheek to gently raise her chin. Her beautiful, shining eyes met his with trepidation and he smiled softly.

'I love you, Margaret. I may not speak as well as some, but there are no better words. I tried to, but I cannot keep my silence now'.

Margaret inhaled shakily at his earnest admission. Tears welled in her eyes as she carefully raised a hand to hold the one against her skin. Her heart thumped faster and faster in her chest and she returned his smile with a shy one of her own.

Spurred on by her actions, he took a single step closer so that there were scarcely inches between them. Her breath hitched at his proximity, but she did not move away. Instead, she carefully took his hand fully in her own, all the while maintaining her gaze.

His soft smile blossomed into a blissful grin and he lowered his head to be on level with hers. She swallowed thickly, the fear suddenly rearing its head again within her. Fortunately for the both of them, she had not enough time to react before his lips met hers in a gentle kiss.

Margaret instantly reacted to his tentative action by moving her hand to his cheek and pouring her feelings into what was a most inappropriate moment. With the smooth movement of her lips against his stubbled mouth she scared away any doubts he had about her feelings.

When their lips parted for the last time, neither one of them opened their eyes immediately as they revelled in the new sensation. When they finally did, Margaret could no longer hold herself back and she melted into his arms. His strong arms came up around her as she gently laid her head against his chest.

'Margaret,' he murmured into her hair and she raised her eyes to look at him. 'I must not be apart from you any longer. Will you stay here with me and be my wife?'

Margaret smiled and nodded happily. 'Yes John, I will'.

His stomach fluttered happily at the sound of his name on her lips and he grinned once more, a feeling that was so alien to him after months of failing business and hopeless loneliness. He knew in that moment that he had better get used to the feeling as he lowered his lips to her once more in a chaste kiss.

'What shall your mother say?' she asked quietly, her eyes entreating.

John smiled. 'Mother will accept you. She must'.

Margaret sighed softly and stiffened a little in his arms. 'But are you certain...do you truly wish for me to be your wife?'

John shook his head in silent disbelief and carefully took her face in his hands once more. 'I want nothing more'.

With no further uncertainty between them, they lost themselves in the warm presence of the other. Both were aware of how scandalous it would be should someone come upon them at that moment. However, their relief outweighed any fear of discovery.

Margaret's face was rested once more against John's chest and as he held her in his arms, she could hear his heart racing in his chest. The cold morning air still bit at her cheeks as happy tears leaked silently down them.

**xxx**

**So there you have it, some happiness at last. The last chapter will be an epilogue so if you don't stick around for that, thanks for taking the time to read this. I do love writing these stories so much. In fact, I have renewed inspiration of late and will be working on a Hobbit fanfic with Thorin and an OC character and Fili with another OC. So keep your eyes out for that if you're interested. Thanks again!**


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